


Don't Go

by drainbamage954 (cats_cradle6766)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, broken!Suho/Kai, horses pooping, junmyeon crying, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2018-05-01 15:13:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 76,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5210603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cats_cradle6766/pseuds/drainbamage954
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every beginning comes from an end</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Go

**Author's Note:**

> One of the langio creations. Dedicated to Ang because she held my hand through this entire marathon of a story, yelling at me and encouraging me. 
> 
> Ang’s Alternate Summary of this fic: HEARTBREAK!! BOUQUETS!! ANGRY!! CARRIAGES!! HORSE POOOP!!! CARPETS!! FOLDERS!!! KISS!!

On the upside of town, in the fancy districts where a woman’s left shoe is worth more than the average man’s paycheck, lie the fancy boutiques, the high rise shops and the brand names only the elite can afford. Nestled between the posh custom designs and imported brilliance sit the most exquisite restaurants, where ingredients almost cost as much as the bottles of limited vintage wine. The seats are made of the finest leather and the water goblets crafted from the best crystal, the plates and dishes and silverware gilded with gold.

“I’m late,” Joonmyun says, shaking his head absently and putting up a hand in apology as he sits down quickly barely paying attention to the waiter as he takes his seat. His business meeting ran over, again, and he was late, again, by almost a half hour. The reservation was at seven and it is ticking half past at the custom watch upon his wrist. “I’m late, I know, I’m sorry.” He smiles, looking up at the man across from him. A face creases, tired lines around the eyes and mouth and looking unhappy.

Joonmyun is late. Joonmyun can’t help it; he’s busy. He has his job, he is successful, he is working, he is doing everything he can to provide and keep happy the man before him. He promised him to give him everything he ever dreamed of. And so far he considers that he’s been relatively successful in that area.

“I think we should break up,” is said softly, eyes steady and meeting his over the gorgeous china and place settings, flickering oil candle imported from Turkey in a hand blown holder from the exotic lands of-

Wait. Stop.

Joonmyun laughs, clearly having misheard. “What?” he asks, shaking his head and rubbing at his ear. He must have misheard. “I’m sorry, but I thought you said-“

“I think we should break up, Joonmyun,” is repeated, softer this time as Jongin’s hands tuck together in his lap. His gaze doesn’t leave Joonmyun though, and the certainty there is scaring him.

“You?“ Joonmyun can’t breathe. Already slightly breathless from hurrying here, he can feel the air in his chest leaving him, deflating and leaving him hollow. “Why?”

Jongin shifts, dropping his gaze from Joonmyun’s as he falls silent, lips pressing together as he searches for words to explain this sudden statement that has Joonmyun reeling. The silence is terrible, Joonmyun still in too much shock to say anything and Jongin saying nothing. It makes it worse, the horrible crushing numb feeling that is swelling inside Joonmyun. Jongin not looking at him is worse than him doings so. “We aren’t working.” Yes they are. It’s functional, it’s simple. Joonmyun is there for Jongin and gives Jongin what he needs and Jongin is cared for and happy. Jongin is happy. Jongin is… “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?” Joonmyun asks. He can’t wrap his mind around this. Almost two years together. Joonmyun and Jongin together and simple and easy and they love each other and it’s just that way. “I don’t understand.”

Jongin sighs, shoulders stiffening as he looks up and then back down. He won’t meet Joonmyun’s eyes and the frown that seems to have set on his face disconcerting and he isn’t saying anything. He isn’t explaining why. “It just,” Jongin says before pausing. “I think it’s for the best. For, for us.” He presses his lips together and looks at his water glass. He looks horribly tired, despite the smooth skin on his face, the lush healthy hair styled perfectly from his face. He looks tired, and he looks pleadingly, helplessly, sad.

There is no reason for Jongin to break up with Joonmyun. Anything he asked, in the rare moments he did, Joonmyun gave without question. Joonmyun gave, it was easy, he has the resources to. Anything and everything Joonmyun gave him. It was so simple, anything he ever wanted, Jongin never went without. “You’re breaking up with me?” This is impossible. “How can you break up with me?” He blinks, a flare of irritation in his chest. He gave Jongin everything. “Why would you break up with me? I gave you everything.” Jongin looks up and his eyes sadden. “Everything, anything you wanted, I gave it to you.”

Jongin flinches a bit at this, Joonmyun’s tone harsher than he intended it to be. “Joonmyun, it’s not because of you not giving me things.” He sighs, his eyes flickering over Joonmyun’s face. “You gave me so much, but you never gave me you.”

Sputtering, Joonmyun leans forward slightly, waving off the waiter that approaches. “I never gave you myself?” he says quietly, frowning. “We’ve been sleeping toge-“

“That’s not what I mean,” Jongin sighs, as if the fact that Joonmyun can’t understand this, can’t let him go, is wearing on him. His eyes close as runs a hand over his face. He falls silent again and Joonmyun is still reeling, still waiting for something to slip to change to break and the sudden reveal that this is some big joke. Jongin will laugh, telling him no, he’s just playing. But Jongin doesn’t play like this, Jongin looks exhausted and sad and uncomfortable and words don’t come together enough to fill the space that stretches between them. “I just think it’s time we went our separate ways.” Jongin winces at his own words, the cliché line coming from his mouth and twisting uncomfortably.

“But you love me,” Joonmyun cracks, the slow sink of reality burning now. It hurts. This hurts. “I love you and you love me and-“

Jongin is shaking his head, a small twisted smile that looks more like a grimace on his face as he doesn’t look at Joonmyun. “I think it’s been a long time since you were in love with me, Joonmyun,” Jongin says, looking down at his hands. “And it’s been a long time since I was in love with you.” His features squeeze in what could be pain. Joonmyun can’t think.

“But I do love you,” Joonmyun says, reaching desperately across the table, hoping for Jongin’s hand to come and grasp his in return. You can’t be leaving me. “Jongin, whatever you need, whatever you want, I want you to have. I love you.”

The look on Jongin’s face when he finally looks up is more real than anything he or Joonmyun have said. It is hollow and Joonmyun cannot read him. He can’t reach him. Jongin sighs, the sound heavy as he stands up, pushing away. “Goodbye, Joonmyun,” he says, walking from the table.

Joonmyun can’t move, staring disbelievingly at the space where Jongin sat, staring at him sadly. Joonmyun doesn’t get up, doesn’t stop him as he walks past him, instead frozen. He can't process this, the words ringing in his head as he sits in shock. Jongin doesn’t pause, walking from him and Joonmyun sits, the slow burning reality of Jongin’s words slowly settling into him long after Jongin has left and disappeared into the night. The flame of the oil lamp on the table burns, flickering as Joonmyun sits and stares and can’t move.

-

_I think we should break up._

Joonmyun doesn’t understand as he stares at the hard lacquer finish before him and the words slowly gnaw into his consciousness. Joonmyun can’t understand it really, that Jongin is leaving him, has left him, did just leave him. Why would Jongin leave him? Why would they break up? They were perfect. They were ideal, the rich successful business CEO and the golden Editor of a magazine, young and prodigal and gone.

_I think we should break up._

The light soft notes of a piano drift through the air and mixing with the dim lights and the bottom of the whiskey glass is taunting him. Joonmyun frowns so intensely he can’t figure if the pain is from heartbreak or miserably scowling. “I gave him everything,” he moans, spinning the glass slowly in his hands and coughing slightly, the burn against his face where tears have run for the past hour itching. “I gave him everything and he left me with nothing.”

Joonmyun can’t tell which burns more, the shame or the whiskey that tips down his throat. He doesn’t even like jazz, and yet here he is on a Friday night, wedged into a bar stool and drowning himself in whiskey refills. The cold hard reality that Jongin is gone, has left him, that he walked from his life just like that settles into him and elicits a new bout of hiccupping sobs.

“Bartender!” The bored man at the end of the bar looks up and nods when Joonmyun feebly shakes the glass at him, not bothering to wipe his face from the runs of water. Joonmyun doesn’t cry nearly as often as he once did. Now is an exception and he considers himself perfectly validated in numbing the pain in his chest and head and heart with copious amounts of whiskey.

Jongin is gone. Probably off and finding someone better, more amazing, and has left Joonmyun all alone and broken. “I gave him everything!” Joonmyun repeats, slamming his fist down miserably and looking at no one as a new bout of sobs wracks over him. He hiccups as his mind spins Jongin’s words over and over.

There were many times, more frequent than not, when Joonmyun would send Jongin gifts, wrapped up in work and his job and Jongin would find himself with bouquets of flowers, expensive elaborate gifts and dinners to himself. Joonmyun loves Jongin. But apparently it was never enough. He sobs. “I should have given him more,” he moans, slumping over his empty glass as the bartender provides him with another.

This is all horribly, terribly impossibly wrong. Joonmyun tugs at his hair, moaning at the painful stab this sends into his scalp. He wants to wake up from this nightmare, nestled among the dark blue sheets back at his penthouse, soft and warm with Jongin beside him sleeping on his side, broad back resting gently amid the sea of dark blue. Joonmyun wants to wake up and sigh in relief because this can only be a bad dream.

Jongin is gone. Jongin left him. Joonmyun was never enough.

“Is it because I’m not good enough?” Joonmyun asks, looking up at the rows of alcohol and frowning, voice clogged from sobs. “Is it because I’m defective or something?”

“Well, you do look really ugly when you cry.” The voice to the side has Joonmyun turning swiftly, his head swimming slightly as the five whiskeys seem to slosh behind his eyes and unbalance him. There is a brief moment of confusion before his vision focuses on the man beside him who is watching him with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, okay, really ugly.”

Joonmyun doesn’t need this from some random stranger. He’s in pain. “I just had my heart broken,” he snaps, words slurring slightly. “Don’t judge me, you shit.”

The man beside him holds up a hand in surrender, leaning back slightly and shaking his head, throwing a face that is non-hostile. “Hey, calm down,” he says, watching Joonmyun warily before settling back beside him and leaning close. “Can I buy you a drink or something?” Joonmyun frowns intensely, his throat raw and burning and yes he would probably do well with more alcohol. “Or would you prefer a towel to hide your sadness in?”

Joonmyun is pretty sure the man beside him is an asshole. He is, however, offering alcohol. “You’re awfully generous,” Joonmyun grumbles, slumping a bit as he takes in the man beside him. He’s not tall, not particularly, though slim and in a collared shirt, looking worn and he shakes chestnut brown bang from his face with a small quirk of lips.

“I’m having a good night,” the other man says. “And you’re obviously not.” Joonmyun scowls, coughing miserably at the very factual statement. “So, can I buy you a drink, sad man?”

“That’s not my name,” Joonmyun is frowning at the other man now, regardless of whether there is alcohol, he figures this is, at least, acceptable. He was, after all, just dumped.

“Well, I don't know your name,” the asshole beside him says, leaning on his forearms on the bar top beside Joonmyun. “So I had to make something up.” He smiles and Joonmyun, despite the alcohol and the gnawing void that seems to have filled the area in his chest where the constant of ‘Jongin’ previously rested, feels just a tiny bit less miserable.

“Joonmyun,” he says, holding out a hand in half commitment. “I like whiskey.”

“Baekhyun,” the other man says with a smile as he takes Joonmyun’s hand firmly. “I like vodka.”

“What kind?” Joonmyun asks.

“Whatever is cheapest,” Baekhyun says, waving down the bartender with a crooked finger as Joonmyun snorts into his whiskey, swigging back a little too much that scalds down his throat in a numbing burn of diluted ethanol. “You don’t have room to judge, sad man,” the Baekhyun person says beside him. “Your face looks like a train wreak.”

“I’m in pain,” Joonmyun grunts to his empty whiskey glass.

“So am I,” Baekhyun says, settling back beside him as the bartender makes the drinks. “Just looking at you right now hurts.” Joonmyun frowns into his smiling face.

“Then don’t look at me.” Joonmyun doesn’t want to deal with this right now. Joonmyun doesn’t want to deal with anything right now. Joonmyun wants to rewind time and figure out what went wrong and where he and Jongin stopped working together and became not them.

“But then what fun will that be?” comes back gently as a soft nudge is delivered to Joonmyun’s shoulder. “Come on, Joonmyun sad face.” Joonmyun doesn't like his new nickname. “There’s got to be something out there that can make you happy.”

Joonmyun’s fingers close around his new tumbler of whiskey, the amber liquid of less quality than his usual high priced special stock reserve. He swirls it in his glass and frowns, eyes blurring as his throat hurts from crying and emotion that numbed to nothing. “Not really,” he says, images of a home he will return to filled with nothing but memory and shades of blue, empty like himself.

“You’re no fun.” Baekhyun is grinning at him, not unkindly, his eyes shining gently in the dim light of the piano lounge bar Joonmyun still isn’t sure how he managed to find.

“Maybe that was it,” Joonmyun muses. “Maybe that’s why Jongin left.” Though turn over and over.

“Who?”

Joonmyun isn’t listening. “Maybe that’s why Jongin left me. Why I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t fun enough, always working and giving him things but not fun or interesting or-“ He breaks off to look at Baekhyun. “Am I interesting?”

“Your face is when you cry,” Baekhyun says with a shrug, bringing his glass to his lips and taking a sip. He hisses slightly at the taste. Joonmyun isn’t sure what to make of this person beside him. “Who’s Jongin?”

_Ex._ The word feels too raw. It’s too soon, only a few hours since Joonmyun finally pulled himself from the restaurant, paying the initial reservation fee instinctively as he walked in a daze from the high class establishment with fine food and wine and impeccable atmosphere. It’s been barely a few hours since Jongin said goodbye and walked away.

Joonmyun isn’t ready yet. He can’t let go, not yet. Because a large part of him is still hoping, still settled in the back of his mind that he’ll go home and find the lights on and Jongin curled up on the bed already, sleeping gently and blinking awake when Joonmyun slides in beside him. He’ll press a kiss to his lips before smiling and apologize and tell him no, it wasn’t real. Jongin just made a mistake.

Jongin would never leave.

The soft steady steps away that didn’t stop, didn’t falter, and took a part of Joonmyun with it out the restaurant as Joonmyun couldn’t bring himself to look back and stop him.

Joonmyun feels the gurgle of a horrendous sob bubble up in his throat before it bursts free, depressing choking sounds and high-pitched frantic breaths and Baekhyun face winces in response. He reaches forward and pats Joonmyun a few times, hand resting gently over his shoulder. “There, there,” is said to Joonmyun as he weeps loudly and his chest aches.

_There, there._

The resounding soft voice saying comfort as well as sarcasm drifts through Joonmyun’s head as he stumbles into his apartment, the keypad lock of his door chiming brightly as it permits him entry. His apartment is dark, no lights lingering on. It’s as if nothing has changed since Joonmyun left this morning, nothing is different and it is all exactly as it was left. The remote left on the coffee table and dishes still in the rank by the sink. Nothing is out of place, nothing removed, the numerous items from Joonmyun to Jongin remaining and for a moment, Joonmyun’s heart races he strides to the bedroom.

Empty, the bed lying made in the center of the room, navy coverlet dark and cool in the room and large pillows propped up neatly. The two sets of slippers stand at each side, two dressing gowns, wardrobes untouched and dressers still with everything intact. It’s like Jongin never left and for a long moment, for a while, Joonmyun thinks he didn’t.

The note on his beside table hurts more than Joonmyun is prepared for. Only two words.

_I’m sorry._

Jongin’s coat, the ragged one he insisted on buying for himself is gone from the closet, along with his old beaten and worn knapsack, his bathroom things missing and a few clothes from the dresser. The suits and fancy clothing Joonmyun filled his wardrobe with are still there, hanging untouched. The simplistic jewelry purchased in affection lying cold. Everything Joonmyun ever really bought Jongin is still there.

Muffled sobs are the only things filling the apartment as Joonmyun curls up on his side of the bed, facing away from the empty spot beside him. He aches, heart burning with each beat it takes, and Joonmyun falls asleep to the sound of there, there and the final _goodbye._

-

The nice thing about Saturday is that no one really bothers you on Saturday. It is a day when people go out with friends and lovers and family or fulfill the various tasks they were unable to complete during the week. As the light of Saturday morning creeps in and stabs into a hangover and a body that overall doesn’t want to join the living yet, Joonmyun decides today will be a lazy day. He will lie in bed, sigh, and roll over eventually to see if Jo-

The sob that breaks from his throat hits before the reality does. Jongin is gone. Jongin left him. Joonmyun is alone. Joonmyun is heart broken. Joonmyun still doesn’t know why.

Saturday turns into a day of lying in bed, unmoving except to get painkillers and to glower at his appearance in the bathroom mirror for a good few minutes before resigning to himself that no human is allowed to look upon him today for fear of petrification. Joonmyun is miserable and figures himself perfectly validated to a weekend of allowing himself, for one brief moment, to feel absolutely horrible. The phone rings, echoing in the apartment full of things but not life as Joonmyun ignores it, electing instead to lie in bed, eyes looking into nothing. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone, communicate or see anyone. Doing so would mean talking, and Joonmyun isn’t sure he even has the energy or will to do that at the moment.

People are often allotted a certain period of time known as a ‘grieving period.’ This period can last any span of time, from a few weeks to a year depending on the culture, occupation, and gender of the person in question. This can span from a week to two or three. People will offer their condolences, occasionally a small token to show their support. Grievance periods are given to people who have suffered a significant emotional loss, typically associated with death, and intense loss.

They are not given to people who have just suffered a break up. 

“Stop moping,” Kyungsoo says succinctly, dropping a pile of papers onto Joonmyun’s desk as the CEO looks up at him with a sad frown.

“I’m not moping,” Joonmyun protests, picking over the stack of papers before him. It’s Tuesday. Joonmyun spent the entire weekend buried in bed, ignoring phone calls and going outside and feeling bad before resolving to start anew on Monday. He got until eight in the morning before Kyungsoo had asked him how his weekend had been. He got until meeting Kyungsoo’s eyes before feeling horrible all over again that Jongin broke up with him. He hasn’t texted, called, or messaged in any way shape or form. Joonmyun lasted until Sunday night before picking up his phone and sitting for an hour, waiting for the moment when Jongin would pick up. He never did.

“You sighed five times at your keyboard morosely,” Kyungsoo tells him, aggressively sticking a post it to Joonmyun’s monitor and swiping the screen of his iPad. “I’d call that pretty mopey.”

Joonmyun frowns up at his personal assistant. “Are you my assistant or my therapist?”

“Neither,” Kyungsoo tells him, not even glancing up from his work, frowning in concentration. “I’m the voice of reason you so frequently choose to ignore.”

“I don’t ignore you,” Joonmyun says, frowning deeper at Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo finally looks up to shoot him a very harsh look that has Joonmyun just tightening his jaw.

Joonmyun doesn’t ignore people. Joonmyun is just busy. He runs a company, is successful, has business meetings and contacts and appointments and planning sessions and has very little time for trivial things. But Joonmyun does not ignore people.

“We have a meeting later today,” Kyungsoo tells him, moving off the topic of Joonmyun’s emotional and social state of being. “With Pearl.”

Joonmyun winces, letting out a soft whine. “I hate working with Pearl.”

“Too bad,” Kyungsoo says, bapping him on the head with his iPad lightly. “By the way, I cancelled the Hong Kong trip.”

Joonmyun starts at this, looking up at Kyungsoo with a surprised scowl. “Why?”

Kyungsoo looks at him like he’s insane. “Because there’s no reason for you to go anymore.”

Hong Kong. A expo trip in two months where Joonmyun was planning to go primarily to promote their industry and make partner but which had been set up primarily by Lu Han and which Jongin was going to accompany him on. Lu Han knows the most of the trip, Joonmyun mostly going along to fulfill the figure head duty of company CEO and oversee operates while spending ‘quality time’ with Jongin.

“Who is going then?” Joonmyun asks, frowning further.

“Lu Han.” Kyungsoo shoots him an annoyed look. “Take the time off. Get some rest. Mope on your own time.”

“I am not moping.” Kyungsoo hits him over the head with the iPad, slightly harder this time. “And I’m not cancelling the trip.” Kyungsoo makes to hit him over the head again with a pointed glare and Joonmyun holds up a hand to stop him. “Seriously, I am not cancelling the trip. I have been scheduled to go and will be there. I will be expected to be there.” He can’t changed the trip. There are too many details, too many components, too many things he has tied up in that trip. And cancelling it just because of how Jongin isn’t going to be there isn’t professional.

There is also the added portion of Joonmyun that knows cancelling the trip for himself even though Lu Han may be capable of taking care of it himself will be like cementing that Jongin won’t change. That Jongin isn’t going with him. Not yet, he can’t do that quite yet. The words ‘too soon’ float about his mind as he glares at Kyungsoo and frowns in a determined line.

Kyungsoo sighs, finally dropping his iPad and shaking his hair from his face. “Fine,” he says, fingers racing over the electronic screen before him. “But no more moping.”

“Don’t treat me like a child,” Joonmyun chides, sighing as he sits back in his chair and is tired all over again. He wants to leave early again. It’s barely noon and he’s tired of the day, ready to leave and sit in the limbo that exists in his car between work and home. But he sits back and stays.

“I will until you stop acting like one,” is the curt response from his personal assistant as Kyungsoo walks from his desk in short businesslike steps.

Joonmyun doesn’t mope entirely. He gets reports done and conferences finished and meetings completed and assignments and referrals and paperwork completed at the usual pace. It’s just that everything is heavier, more tiring, and his heart isn’t in it. He even catches the attention of Lu Han, who stops by during a nonexistent lunch break to check and see ‘how he’s holding up’ with a concerned press of lips.

Waving off the Director of Marketing, Joonmyun sighs and puts his head in his hands, massaging his temples. He’s been through break ups before, some big some small and simple but none have slammed into him like this and left him so confused or winded. Jongin leaving just doesn’t make sense to him.

It’s hard to accept. When you don't understand something and the reason behind it escapes all tense of reason, acceptance is hard. Closure near impossible. It’s Tuesday and Jongin hasn’t answered his calls or his texts and there are no messages aside from the folded paper reading _I’m sorry_ which sits on Joonmyun’s beside and stares at him in painful reminder. It’s open ended and confusing and Joonmyun still doesn’t know why, doesn’t understand. Jongdae stops by during lunch, looking worried, and asking if something happened. Would he like to get lunch and possibly talk for a while, catch up and unwind. Joonmyun waves him off, mumbling about work and other things he has to do before leaving early, driving anywhere but home and ends up siting out side a familiar apartment building he doesn't live in. Jongin doesn’t live there anymore, not since he moved in with Joonmyun, but Joonmyun doesn’t know where else to go.

He can’t let it go.

By Thursday Joonmyun is driving from work, business meeting cancelled, the sleek black of his car standing out among the average cars of others as it glides around the city. Curving down side streets, Joonmyun looks out the window from his parking space and waits. It’s Thursday and Joonmyun is pretty sure that Jongin works late on Thursdays.

It’s not stalking. Stalking is done maliciously, typically with the intent to eventually do something after extensive following and obsessive behavior. Joonmyun is just checking, to see if Jongin is okay. Perhaps something happened, Jongin got into an accident and that’s why he hasn’t been returning the calls, hasn’t been contacting him. Maybe Jongin is injured, lost his phone, lost himself.

Joonmyun sits and waits, hands flexing to grip and release about the steering wheel as he waits, the watch on his wrist ticking down the minutes that he’s been waiting. Usually on Thursday, Jongin would get home first, an hour before Joonmyun who stayed late at the office, paperwork and filing and phone calls keeping him there before he steps in and calls a swift hello to the apartment.

“Welcome back,” Jongin would say, from the kitchen or living room or bedroom or study before greeting him. A small swift kiss. Welcome back. How was your day? Simple and easy and Joonmyun never asked for anything. Fingers clench around the firm leather of the steering wheel as the door to the building across from him opens and three figures walk out.

Joonmyun’s breath stops as he takes in the tall form walking easily, gesturing as he talks and adjusts the shoulder strap of his bad. He’s wearing that old jacket, the one that is missing from the hall closet and his clothes look worn, less refined, and hang on him nicely. His hair is soft, for once not styled and perfect and Joonmyun’s chest seizes because Jongin looks fine. Jongin looks okay.

Jongin smiles.

Pressing his phone against his ear, Joonmyun waits at the dial tone that rings and seems to never end, watching, waiting. Jongin pauses, digging into his pocket and pulling something out, looking down and halting, his two companions pausing to look at him in confusion. But Jongin shakes his head, pocketing the object and the ringing against Joonmyun’s ear goes dead.

The hours pass and Joonmyun loses track of when the street lights came on and how long he sits, staring without seeing out the windshield. The image of Jongin shaking his head and pressing his mouth to a thin line, barely pausing before joining his coworkers again replays in his mind painfully. Somewhere between the insincere flash of a smile and the hollow feeling in his chest expanding to crack into him, Joonmyun gets home and walks with laden steps to his bed, pulling off clothes. It’s a habit he long since shed, leaving his clothing around uselessly in piles to pick up later. He broke it a long time ago when the practicality of it ruled out the absentminded ritual. He would even, at times, scold Jongin for leaving his clothing about.

But collapsing into bed and sighing at the time well past normal hours, Joonmyun can’t be bothered to care. Messages flash at him on his phone, but none of them from the person he wants and he sighs, a hand drifting over his face as the familiar burn against skin marks the onslaught of yet more tears. Stains of dark water pepper the dark blue pillowcase as Joonmyun falls into a fitful sleep.

It’s masochistic. The whole waiting outside in and watching through tinted black windows and hidden from view as he watches and hopes that maybe, just maybe, Jongin will look up and smile at him like he used to. It’s masochistic, it’s self abusive, just perpetuating the stagnation of his recovery. Kyungsoo frowns at him in the mornings, eyes on the dark circles under Joonmyun’s own as he walks into the office and ignores everything but coffee until nine.

It’s unhealthy and doesn’t help but Joonmyun can’t stop, instead keeping everything in the apartment just as it is because _what if_ and checks his phone more than is normal. He waits and looks for and hopes and always falters when he sees that brilliant smile directed at someone else. The messages on his phone irritate him, grating into his nerves and just digging into emphasize the absence of the one person he wants to hear from.

It’s been over a week and Joonmyun is not coping well.

A grown man who spends a few days poorly recovering from a break up is one thing. A grown man spending over a week trailing his ex and refusing to fix the side of the bed meant for another as he revisits history that doesn’t make sense is pathetic. Joonmyun know this, but it doesn't stop him. It doesn’t stop him leaving work early nearly every day, nor avoiding his coworkers, the hopeful concerned face of Jongdae, of Kyuhyun, nor the slightly annoyed countenance of Kyungsoo.

Five times so far that Joonmyun has shaken his head, turning from Jongdae as the other man approached him looking positive and smiling only to have his face fall in concerned disappointment. He can’t see his friends, can’t bear to tell them or admit to this. It was bad enough telling Kyungsoo that first Monday, watching as Kyungsoo’s eyes widened at the news before the words sunk in and Joonmyun nearly broke down in his office. Lu Han has been throwing him concerned looks, walking by and checking on details and assignments and somehow the way he looks at him has Joonmyun wondering if he too knows.

“Let it go,” Kyungsoo tells him, frown intense as he shoves a new folder of papers at Joonmyun with a pointed look. “Move on. Get a dog or something.”

“I’m afraid of dogs,” Joonmyun mutters absently, looking over the files, his glasses slipping down his nose as he frowns. He glances up, feeling the tired ache behind his eyes. He hasn’t been sleeping, the darkness from the heavy indigo curtains doing nothing to help him sleep amid the ache of alone. “Did you tell Lu Han?”

“Tell Lu Han what?” Kyungsoo asks, giving him an irritated look. “That you’ve been skipping work to go feel bad for yourself?”

“About-“ Joonmyun can’t say it, the words sticking in his throat. They broke up. Sometimes couples break up, take a moment away from each other, and then get back together. Maybe this is like that. Maybe.

“Of course I told Lu Han,” Kyungsoo snaps, purposefully sorting through the paperwork in his hands. “When he asked why you were leaving early and acting like the world just ended, I figured I may as well share the fact that you’re getting over a break up, rather unsuccessfully, I might add.”

“You have no right to do that,” Joonmyun says curtly, frowning as he looks back at his papers and the sting of Kyungsoo’s words settles into his chest. “The company doesn’t need to know that I’m,” he takes a breathe. “That Jongin and I are having problems.”

Denial isn’t a pretty thing. But it is safe and somehow comforts the numbing pain that seems to have spread through Joonmyun over the past week and a half. He and Jongin are having problems. That means there is a possibility that the problems can be fixed. They can be fixed and repaired and made whole again. 

“You-“ Kyungsoo makes a small annoyed sound before walking off, dragging fingers through his hair as he grumbles about impossible superiors.

It's not helping him when Joonmyun sits outside and rolls over potential conversations in his head, talking to Jongin again and finding out why, after hours of turning things over, Jongin left. Asking Jongin why. Jongin telling him, Jongin missing him, Jongin angry at him, Jongin breaking down and crying and coming back to him, folding close and coming home, admitting he was wrong.

Jongin will come back.

One day, Joonmyun thinks as he stands on a Monday afternoon in a café, cap over his head and watching as Jongin moves about the line of people and bites his lip, frowning at the café menu. This isn’t the first time he’s seen Jongin, watched him outside and checked on him. He does it because he cares, he wants to make sure Jongin is okay when he leaves work, that he’s staying somewhere safe, that he’s healthy and waiting for signs of Jongin missing him. Now is the first time he’s so close, just a few feet away and it would be so easy, so simple to step forward and catch him by the arm, pull him to attention and-

“Hey.” Joonmyun starts, blinking in surprise as he whips to look at the new speaker. Behind him is a familiar face, familiar posture and stature and dark soft hair and a smile that seems far too wide and happy for Joonmyun to handle right now. “I know you.”

Joonmyun would like to return the smile, settle into comfortable conversation and go ‘yes, isn’t this a nice surprise.’ But Joonmyun can’t remember a name to go with the face and behind him is standing the tall form of Jongin who is so close. “Hi,” is thus what Joonmyun manages out with a weak smile, nodding to the other man whose face falters.

“You don’t remember me, do you,” the other man says, his eyes sharpening. This is not entirely true. Joonmyun does remember him, has the face somewhere in his memory amid the turmoil of thoughts that all jumble together and he just can’t piece them together.

“I met you the other week,” Joonmyun tries and the smile is back. “At the piano bar?”

“Wow, you do remember me.” Joonmyun blinks. “What brings you out here? I thought you only liked high quality and fancy labels.”

Vaguely, Joonmyun is beginning to piece together information, lost segments and particles in his mind as his attention tugs at the back of his thoughts to turn. He’s going to lose him, he’s going to miss him, he’s going to-

Jongin is gone. Joonmyun’s spirit falters, his shoulders droppings slightly as a hand comes to rest over one, squeezing gently. This was the first time that Joonmyun had been so close, just a step away from breaking the barrier that had somehow begun to build between himself and Jongin and tear it down, bring him back, and begin to mend the pieces of them.

“Joonmyun?” His name has his snapping from his thoughts, spiraling down fast.

“Yes?”

“I asked what brings you out here,” the other says and Joonmyun wracks quickly for a name. “I honestly didn’t know if I’d see you again after you fell your way into a cab.”

Joonmyun stares. “You make me sound so impressive,” he mutters sarcastically.

“It was impressive,” is said with a nod. “I swear, I’ve never seen anyone so enthusiastically face plant into a cab seat before. Who even knows what’s been on there.” Joonmyun shudders, the mental image of himself lying face first in a cab seat that has been… “I was amused.”

“So pleased to have given you entertainment,” Joonmyun says, stepping through the line. He doesn’t even really want anything. By all intents and purposes, he may as well just leave. Jongin is gone, Joonmyun can go back to the office and complete more work before going home to make a single serving of food for his single serving self and- 

“What do you want?”

Often times, Joonmyun pays. Actually, only in extremely rare cases does Joonmyun not pay. Picking up tabs and checks and covering for others on costs, Joonmyun is familiar with paying for others and giving and treating. Having someone else simply offer to pay for him is a bit disconcerting. “What do you mean? He trails off at the end, still fishing for a name.

“I have a discount card.” A slightly wrinkled and obviously used card is flashed at him between thin fingers and a satisfied smile has him raising his eyebrows. “Plus, I know the owner. If you smile and don’t cry, I swear we’ll get something on the house.”

“And what if I do cry,” Joonmyun says before he can stop himself.

“All the small children here will join you in pity,” is thrown back at him so fast Joonmyun blinks. The other man smiles, stepping up beside him easily, as if standing beside Joonmyun in line is something they always do. As if he knows Joonmyun. “Baekhyun,” he says with a small quirk of lips.

Baekhyun.

The name settles back and into place and Joonmyun nods, thumb rising up to slide between his teeth in a gentle bite, fixing the name into his mind. “Sorry,” he says, looking up at Baekhyun who shrugs.

“You were drunk and tired and having arguments with whiskey glasses,” Baekhyun says, waving off the apology. “I’m a little surprised you remember me at all.” Joonmyun should feel guilty, should feel badly that this man who met him sobbing his woes over a bar had the decency to speak to him again while Joonmyun can’t even remember his name. He should be removing himself from this situation, going to find Jongin, telling him it can't be the end; that it’s over isn’t a suitable explanation for Jongin to leave him.

Joonmyun should do a lot of things.

Sitting at a table across from a man he barely knows as a generous cut of red velvet cake sits between them along with two steaming tall coffees just happens to be what Joonmyun ends up doing.

“So what does bring you down here?” Baekhyun asks, blowing on the top of his drink carefully, the milk foam waving gently under his breath. “I really was honestly surprised to see you.” Baekhyun paid for coffee, the man behind the counter greeting him like an old friend and placing the cake on their tray before Baekhyun or Joonmyun could say anything.

“On the house,” was said with a playful wink that Baekhyun threw back with vigor. Baekhyun seems to be that kind of person, one who steps into someone’s life and doesn’t stop, stepping in and more and never stopping with his vitality, personality strong.

Joonmyun burns his tongue on his coffee. “I just happened to be in the area,” he says, carefully avoiding the truth. Baekhyun eyes him skeptically over the rim of his coffee cup. “Why were you in a posh piano bar.”

“I have refined tastes,” Baekhyun says, swirling his coffee and Joonmyun eyes the sweater he’s wearing today, eyes the slightly frayed cuffs and eyes hair that is in need of a trim and proper styling. “Very refined,” Baekhyun adds before taking a large gulp of his drink and promptly choking on it.

“Attractive,” Joonmyun tells him, watching as Baekhyun sputters and spits and coughs violently. “Very attractive.”

Wheezing slightly, Baekhyun looks up at him, coughing slightly. “I know,” he says, a mix between a smirk and a wince on his face. “Almost as good as your crying face.”

Joonmyun’s smirk drops quickly. Baekhyun grins and shoves the cake towards him with a nod that definitely says ‘eat’.

The cake is delicious. Baekhyun talks about everything, rambling from topic to topic and skipping about as easily as if jumping from stones in a stream. Baekhyun is chewing in his fork. “That’s terrible for your teeth,” Joonmyun tells him.

“They’re my teeth,” Baekhyun says with a shrug. “If I want to use them to chew on a fork, then so be it.” Joonmyun hasn't met anyone like Baekhyun before. “What are you doing later?”

He’s not expecting that, a query as to whether he’s busy or occupied. Just the random hour that has already passed between the two of them is enough for him to pass by before moving on. Perhaps he’ll see Baekhyun again. Perhaps not. He doesn’t know.

Joonmyun never planned on this, instead clearing his schedule to spend trying to find and rework things, bring the broken pieces back together and mend them. Tell me what I did wrong and I will fix it. I love you too much to let go. There are no plans, schedule wiped clean for his own person endeavors and Joonmyun presses his lips together to try to avoid being too obvious about this. Baekhyun tilts his head to the side gently, tongue poking out slightly. “What’s your spice tolerance like?”

Joonmyun really has never met anyone like Baekhyun.

The question doesn’t make sense, especially with the smile that Baekhyun gives him so brilliantly as if inquiring what his spice tolerance is and then immediately dragging him to a convenience store for ice cream isn’t strange. Baekhyun shoves an ice cream into his hands and then picks one for himself. Joonmyun vaguely notes that they’re marked under 1+1 deals and stares as Baekhyun deposits a mess of coins onto the counter.

“Really,” Joonmyun says, digging out his wallet and frowning as Baekhyun slaps down the change carelessly. “Are you homeless or something?”

“We prefer the title habitat handicapped,” Baekhyun says, flashing an offended look at Joonmyun as he brandishes an ice cream wrapped in cardboard and paper. “Excuse yourself.”

Backpedaling, Joonmyun feels a knot forming in his throat. “I didn’t know, I-“

“I am offended,” Baekhyun says, hitting him on the shoulder with his ice cream and shaking his head, tutting gently. “The disregard.”

“I really-“ 

“Just because I live in a cardboard box doesn’t mean I like being judged or joked about so casually,” Baekhyun barrels on, completely blocking out Joonmyun’s attempts to apologize. “How dare you.”

“I had no idea, Baekhyun, I’m sorry,” Joonmyun finally gets out, voice raised as he steps close to Baekhyun who has been gesturing slightly as he walks down the side walk. “Really, I can give you-“

“I don’t need you pity,” Baekhyun says, sniffing. “And I’m not really homeless.” He grins cheekily and Joonmyun frowns, the urge to hit the other man nudging at him. “I just like to save money rather than throw it around. There’s nothing wrong with being frugal.” Joonmyun, who has three cars and a vast penthouse apartment, snaps his mouth closed. “Eat. I didn’t get that for you for show.”

The last time Joonmyun had something legitimately from a convenience store was a long time ago. He can’t really remember the last time he had convenience store ice cream. Probably when he was much younger, a child, playing with friends who knew and liked him for him and not for what he could do for them. He can’t really remember, in fact the sight of the freeze packaged ice cream cone and ice cream matted with chocolate and nuts doesn’t look specifically delicious.

Years of an expensive palette will remove the faint tastes and the simple taste of an ice cream cone is something Joonmyun hasn’t really had in a long time. The simplicity of it is more than any casual blend of high cut ingredients and life. Baekhyun grins as he takes a bite out of his cone, the waffle crunching between his teeth as he watches Joonmyun and strides along easily.

“You look like a kid.”

“I am not a kid,” is said sternly.

“We’re all kids,” Baekhyun says, turning from him to smile down the sidewalk. “We all just are pretending so hard to pretend we’re not.”

Baekhyun doesn’t care. Baekhyun walks because he can, talks because he can, and smiles when he wants to. Baekhyun isn’t careful, isn’t calculated, and isn’t simple. Joonmyun doesn’t understand him at all. But he smiles none-the-less when Baekhyun begins pointing out the various cars on the streets and describing how the front and tail bumpers look like faces.

“The worst is the Volkswagon bug,” Baekhyun says, squinting at the cars around then. “It always looks a mix between constipated and surprised by something very unpleasant.” Joonmyun laughs for the first time in two weeks. “What kind of expression does your car have?” Baekhyun asks.

Joonmyun doesn’t tell him. Baekhyun kicks him in the foot.

There are no new messages on his phone, no missed calls, and no new texts. No notifications aside from work and Jongdae and no emails in his inbox. Joonmyun frowns as he puts away his phone, settling back into the slightly squashy booth of the Chinese place Baekhyun had dragged him to with the assurance that ‘they don’t serve cats’.

“What are you checking for?”

Joonmyun looks up, slightly startled. Baekhyun is watching him curiously, expression easy. “I just,” he pauses. “I wanted to see if I had any messages.”

“Are you expecting someone to contact you?” Baekhyun looks vaguely confused. “If you had plans, you didn’t have to come out with me.”

“No,” Joonmyun cuts him off before Baekhyun can go off rambling all over again.

Baekhyun pauses, hand around the oolong tea he’d poured for himself and Joonmyun. “Okay,” he finally says, looking away and dropping the subject. “Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Baekhyun says, downing the small cup of tea in one swing. Joonmyun taps the rim of his carefully. “Why whiskey?”

Topic to topic and back around again until Joonmyun is at home and exhausted after seeming to bounce around from here to there and his tongue still burns from the ‘not super spicy’ food Baekhyun had paid for with a 30% off coupon. “Are you made of coupons?” Joonmyun had asked, looking at him in disbelief.

“Shh,” Baekhyun had said, pressing a finger to his lips and looking around furtively. “Don’t tell people, they’ll all want a piece of me.” He grinned and Joonmyun is still not sure he understands Baekhyun even if his phone number and name now rests in his phone, the numbers punched in quickly when Baekyun had managed to grab his phone as they left the restaurant.

“If you need me,” Baekhyun had said.

Joonmyun flips open his phone, toeing his shoes off at the door and frowns. He doesn’t really know Baekhyun, has met him only two times, and has no real reason to contact him again. But he closes his phone anyway, thumb finally pulling away from the delete button as he figures there’s no real chance they’ll meet again. But just in case.

The apartment is still dark, the hues of blue melding into the darkness from night and the silence and emptiness is almost crushing as Joonmyun walks in. There is so much space, so much area that was once filled with warmth and light, places Jongin fit and belonged which he is now missing from. Places where Joonmyun would turn and Jongin would just be there. His face looks out, smiling and happy and beautiful from the many still images and photographs lining the shelves. Memories of he and Joonmyun together, happy and in love that Joonmyun has, remembers and can reply with a bittersweet smile upon his face.

Jongin was quiet, gentle, sweet and kind. He listened and spoke softly, opening up slowly but shining as he did so, the more of him coming out the more beautiful he became. He never asked for much, and Joonmyun wanted to give him the world. He never questioned, never pushed, just gently remained and cared and loved. He was everything Joonmyun had sought, had looked for, had wanted. He was everything Joonmyun needed. And Joonmyun had fallen in love with him so easily, slipping into the hidden smiles and the awkward genuine laughs that Jongin would try to hide.

Jongin fit, filled those spaces Joonmyun didn’t know how to. Jongin fit into Joonmyun’s life like a puzzle piece, fixing in perfectly and they lived equally, Jongin working at his job and waiting patiently for Joonmyun to finish his own work. Jongin understood him, knew him, just as he knew Jongin. Knew his smile and his laugh and his hands and the how peaceful he looked as he slept.

Joonmyun knew Jongin. Or at least he thought he did.

The phone repeatedly illuminates and fades on the bed, fingers pressing over the screen to check, to see, and waiting. No new messages. No missed calls. Nothing.

_Where are you?_

_I still love you. Please come back._

-

The next morning is the same. The same paperwork, reports, analysis, proposals and Kyungsoo shoving more things at him Joonmyun doesn't have time for. Lu Han drops off another proposal for review, hair sticking up everywhere and chewing on a pen cap. Kyungsoo eyes him as he hands him his coffee and seems to want to say something but decides better of it. “No leaving early today,” he tells Joonmyun. “You have to work on those analysis for the testing division. We need them by tomorrow.”

Kyungsoo is an excellent person, driven, hard working, practical, and no nonsense. When given a task, he completes and it and moves onto the next, much like a machine. He is grounded and stable and one of the few people who can shove Joonmyun around on his deadlines, who Joonmyun will tolerate hitting him over the head, literally and figuratively.

“Thank you, Kyungsoo,” Joonmyun says, accepting the coffee gratefully before sighing.

Kyungsoo blinks at him. “That’s it?” he asks, eyebrow raised as he shakes his hair from his face. “No complaining? No extra plans? No ‘Kyungsoo I can’t my heart is broken and so am I’?”

“You make me sound pathetic,” Joonmyun says, scowling at his personal assistant.

“You are pathetic,” Kyungsoo tells him, dropping one more file of papers on his keyboard. “I still have no idea why I put up with you.”

“I pay you,” Joonmyun deadpans.

A slight nod of the head and Kyungsoo shrugs. “That is probably a large contributing factor.” He grins before leaving, turning and smiling slightly as he walks from the large office and Joonmyun rubs at his eyes in fatigue.

Stuck in a rut, it is called. Putting his head in his hands and breathing, heels of his palms pressing into his eyes, Joonmyun is stuck. Work reminds him of the time he didn’t spend and reminds him of all he did to stay in one. And regardless it slipped away from him.

Jongin never asked for anything, and neither did Joonmyun. Joonmyun just gave and Jongin just quietly accepted.

It’s unfair, the constant turn of information and history and memory over and over in his mind, trying to find what went wrong, where it went wrong, and where he failed.

Maybe Jongin failed, as insane as that seems.

“You’re thinking about him again,” Kyungsoo comments quietly, dropping off another stack of papers and sighing from across the desk.

“I can’t help it,” Joonmyun says tiredly. Constantly thinking it over, trying to piece it together, to find out the reason why, is exhausting. Revisiting that night when he was left sitting alone and in shock, turning over words, all the small simple conversations before that, trying to find something, anything, to put it back together.

In the rare moments Kyungsoo looks sympathetic, Joonmyun always stares. Kyungsoo is practical, logical, and calculated. He is rarely pitying. The look flashing at him makes Joonmyun’s stomach turn and a bitter taste fill his mouth.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Kyungsoo speaks as if he doesn’t know.

“Like you think I can’t take care of myself.”

Kyungsoo snorts. “I know you can’t take care of yourself,” he says before walking away. Joonmyun doesn’t feel better.

It becomes a strange sort of ritual, to leave work and drive about the city, turning over place where Jongin may be, where Joonmyun can find him. And every day where he doesn’t find him or see him, Joonmyun returns him with the strange bright feeling in his chest that maybe, just maybe, the lights will be one and a brilliant smile will greet him when he walks in the door.

Every day, Joonmyun is disappointed, walking through the door to an empty apartment and empty spaces that he can’t fill because he doesn’t know how to fill something that has left him empty as well. A hole does not fill another hole. You need substance, material, something tangible.

“What are you up to tonight?” Kyuhyun asks, tapping at the edge of the door as he stops by, waiting patiently for Joonmyun to answer him.

“I’m busy,” Joonmyun answers, barely looking up at his long time friend. “Not tonight. Maybe another night.”

“Plans with Jongin?” Kyuhyun asks. It’s not malicious, not meant to drive into Joonmyun so viciously that he has to catch himself before visibly recoiling. In all honestly, it isn’t that far off the truth. Except unlike Kyuhyun is thinking, his plans more revolve around making sure Jongin manages to get home safely, where he waits and builds up courage to go and knock on the door of the apartment Jongin has just moved into. Where he watched Jongin relocate to after leaving his friends place as his friend looked on in concern, dark features pulled tight.

“Something like that,” Joonmyun lies, stretching a pained smile at Kyuhyun and letting out a soft laugh that feels broken against his lips. “Maybe another night.” He can’t tell him, can’t explain that Jongin isn’t meeting him for dinner and that they haven’t spoken in almost a month. He can’t do it, can’t admit it and shatter the hope that he can still bring Jongin home. That Jongin will still come back. Not every break up lasts. People get back together even if Jongin still hasn’t messaged him, has ignored his calls late into the night as Joonmyun has sat and waited until the light in his apartment goes out.

“Get a cat?” Lu Han suggests, chewing on a pen again. Joonmyun tries not to sneer at the damage this will do his teeth.

He doesn't need a cat. He doesn’t need a dog or a cat or a fish or a new hot date for the weekend as Kyungsoo had sardonically suggested. Joonmyun needs-

The car behind beeps, horn blasting and Joonmyun snaps from his thoughts, shaking his head and spurring him through the light, ducking slightly at the annoyed yells behind him from the car waiting.

Jongin is living on his own. The small apartment downtown somewhere, nestled between his job and the outer line. He looks tired, blinking and rubbing at his eyes whenever Joonmyun sees him. But he looks healthy. He looks okay.

It hurts, seeing him passing through life as if nothing happened, as if there was not something significant and heart shattered that just happened a matter of weeks ago. It hurts to see him passing through as if the world never stopped, smiling at people he talks with and laughing. 

The laughing hurts the most.

Sitting in the car, hands resting on the steering wheel as his eyes follow broad shoulders and eyes that crinkle up, Joonmyun tries to remember the last time he heard Jongin laugh, genuinely laugh. His mind comes up with a blank, a haze of phone calls and quiet conversations and small kisses and moments in between the greater mess of chaos that has been Joonmyun’s life for so long.

Organized and filed and ordered things to do and meetings to attend and schedules to fill and a quick squeeze in a schedule to make time, briefly, for dinner.

Apologies for missing events and gathering with flowers, dinners out, and anything anyone could want. _I’m sorry, I love you._ Joonmyun gave Jongin everything. Anything he wanted, anything he could have wanted, Joonmyun gave him.

_I would buy you the moon if you asked,_ -

 

Daily, there are letters in piles, stacks, and haphazardly thrown onto his desk with dates and places and names and themes. Come to this opening, this event, this gala, this collection. His name on a list and brings power with it. Being successful and known and wealthy provides him many things and numerous invitations to almost every event under the moon is one of them. A dinner party, an art gallery opening, and a small gala wait today.

Usually, these letters go unopened, thrown away carelessly, but the name on the white envelope in industrial font and emblazoned seal on the front catch his attention. The name is familiar, not because Joonmyun knows it, but because he knows someone who does.

The room is crowded, people all in high fashion and delicate silks in patterns just released. Champagne glass in hand, Joonmyun frowns at one of the pieces against the wall. He can’t entirely figure out what it is, some sort of artistic representation of some sort of animal, he’s sure, but overall he doesn’t quite understand it.

“I love his work,” says the woman beside him, shaking her head in awe as she gazes at the picture. “It’s so fresh and new. Really makes you appreciate how genius his mind is to craft such amazing pieces.” Joonmyun stares at the painting, or drawing, he’s not entirely sure but nods regardless and hums gently, as if contemplating the picture as well. Honestly, to him, it just looks like an oblong blobby thing with legs.

Joonmyun has seen a lot of art in his life and the current work he’s viewing for this ‘spectacular artist’ reminds me of what he used to stick on the fridge when he was 4 years old, if not worse. No that he’s about to judge, primarily just because he never really understood art that well anyway.

The hum of talking and mingling people around over gently delicately sipped champagne is suffocating. Joonmyun tries to look nonchalant as he walks around, eyes flickering around and searching. He ends up being talked into one of the paintings, a large piece that reminds him of a narwhal and probably isn’t. It’s artistic and abstract; Joonmyun knows that at least.

Nervous, fidgeting, and on his second glass of champagne, Joonmyun finally looks towards the door and freezes. His eyes take in gray slacks, a casual button down, and brushed hair, a dazzling smile on features as Jongin greets someone just inside the door. Joonmyun has only seen Jongin in glimpses, flashes and hidden looks. The last real time he saw him this close at the café two weeks ago, when he was so close, so near to just reaching out and pulling him back. He looks fine, smiling, face clean and free, laughing at something as a man steps up beside him, slightly taller. He smiles, laying a hand on Jongin’s shoulder and something in Joonmyun twists.

Not really seeing Jongin aside from watching from the shelter of a vehicle, having him here, close and available, Joonmyun downs his champagne and takes a breath. He doesn’t know the man Jongin is with, who smiles and looks around and has department store clothing and a hand that never seems to leave Jongin’s back. Joonmyun doesn't know him and he doesn't like him. Jongin is saying something, caught up in conversation with his friend when Joonmyun nears them and before he can open his mouth, Jongin’s eyes find him and his heart skips.

Brown eyes widen in surprise, mouth parting slightly and Joonmyun half expects Jongin to smile, his name floating from those lips and for a rush of a moment he can see it in the shock on Jongin’s face and his heart swells. Then Jongin’s face is twisting, brows drawing together in confusion as he stares and this is all wrong. “Excuse me,” he says swiftly to the tall companion who looks at him in curiosity as Jongin steps from him and towards Joonmyun.

“Joonmyun.” He nearly sighs, hearing his name spoken on that voice after so long. But Jongin is frowning, lips tight and eyes closed off. “What are you doing here?”

“I was invited,” Joonmyun says honestly, grabbing two glasses of champagne from a passing tray and handing one to Jongin easily. Naturally. This is how it is. Jognin doesn’t take it, instead frowning at Joonmyun whose own smile fixes. “It’s good to see you.”

Thirty one messages. Forty nine calls. Twelve texts. Nothing has been answered and Joonmyun begins to feel the edges of irritation nipping at him as Jongin stands and stares at him as if his mere presence is uncomfortable for him. He shifts his weight, sighing slightly and behind him Joonmyun can see the man he came with bowing with a quick smile, fumbling slightly to take two offered glasses of champagne before looking around easily again. His smile fixes harder. “Is that your new boyfriend?”

The words feel like venom on his tongue and the irritation strikes harder as Jongin scowls. Joonmyun hasn't seen the other man before, not in all the time he’s spent waiting and hoping, the glimmer of hope in his chest. But watching him step up to Jongin, smile easy and familiar has a horrible burning twisting in his gut and anger flares. He’s not bad looking, handsome in fact, even if he looks out of place and second-guessing his every action. He doesn’t belong, and Joonmyun wants him gone.

“He’s not-“ Jongin begins but the hesitation from him has Joonmyun’s smile turning bitter regardless. “Joonmyun.” His name hurts.

“He’s tall,” Joonmyun comments with a crooked smile, looking over as Jongin finally glances back, looking slightly harried. “Very tall, taller than you.” He clears his throat, eyes fixing on Jongin whose eyes linger on the other man. The irritation flares again. “I never knew you were so particular on height, Jongin.”

Jongin looks at him now and the frown upon his face is deep. “Seriously,” Jongin says, voice clipped. “Joonmyun, I haven’t seen you in a month and you want to argue? About this? Of all things?” He sounds annoyed, hurt, and slightly exasperated. Of all people, Joonmyun feels like he is the one who should be feeling this. Jongin left him, _him,_ for some tall stranger with poor choice in fashion and who seems too awkward in the room of etiquette. He takes a generous sip of champagne.

“I was never tall enough?” Joonmyun throws out wildly. “Is that it?” He came here to get Jongin back, convince him to return, stop this nonsense, but now he’s just annoyed. He looks over at the other man and feels a sneer, ugly and uncommon creep over his lips. “What does he have that I don’t, Jongin?”

Jongin is frowning, severely and deeply at him. “He’s there for me,” he says, voice cold. “I can spend time with him and he listens to me. He likes me and tells me that he does, and we go out and-“ Jongin cuts himself off, sighing and looking annoyed at this situation, turning and frowning in irritation before he’s turning and glaring at Joonmyun. The look on his face is that Joonmyun is unwelcome, that he has no right to be here, to be confronting Jongin like this. Joonmyun feels he has every right.

“I gave you those things!” he says, voice louder now as he gestures in emphasis, one of the champagne glasses sloshing slightly over the rim of the flute glass. “I gave you all of those things and more an-“

“I can’t believe you are doing this,” Jongin snaps, roughly turning from Joonmyun and stomping through the gallery, shaking his head in jerks as his shoulders hunch. He’s pissed. Well good, so is Joonmyun. He stops by the back corner, near the refreshment’s table and sighs, running a hand over his face before turning to look at Joonmyun with a hardened expression. “Are you seriously-“

“Tell me one thing that man who can barely stand up properly has that I don’t,” Joonmyun snaps, gesturing behind himself into the crowd as anger grips into his chest, all of the emptiness and hurt from the past month boiling up and seizing there and churning into fury. “Tell me one thing, Jongin.”

“He’s there,” Jongin snaps, voice loud and cutting over Joonmyun as Jongin steps up and looks furious. “He’s there Joonmyun. He listens and talks and gives me flowers and goes dancing and takes me to dinner and kiss-“

“I did all of that,” Joonmyun nearly yells, catching his voice at the last minute before putting down one of the champagne glasses with perhaps more force than was necessary. “I did all of those things, got you all of those things, I-“

“It was never you!” Jongin cracks, and stops, his eyes closing as he steps back and Joonmyun’s words die as the anger stutters to a halt. “He gives me flowers with himself, he takes me to movies and watches them with me, we go out to dinner and it doesn’t matter where we are because he stays the whole time. He isn’t even good at dancing but he’ll go, with me, and dance, with me.” His eyes open and they’re sad, impossibly sad, though determined. “You gave me so many things Joonmyun,” he says, voice quiet as he looks at the stunned face before him. “You gave me so much, but you never gave me yourself.”

Joonmyun’s anger is fading. Joonmyun can’t entirely understand what he feels at the moment as he looks at Jongin. “I did,” he says, the sound weak. “I loved you Jongin.” This isn’t what he wanted, this isn’t how this is supposed to go. This isn’t even closure. This is heartbreak all over again. “I do still love you. I swore I would love you forever and I do. I would give-“

“I never wanted anything!” Jongin bursts out, voice tight. “It was never about the gifts, Joonmyun. I didn’t care about the gifts. I just cared about you!” He sighs, putting a hand over his face. Instinctively, Joonmyun steps forward, reaching out, reaching towards Jongin who hurts, Jongin who needs, Jongin who- “Don’t,” Jongin says quickly, pushing Joonmyun’s hand away swiftly. “Just don’t,” he repeats, shaking his head and walking, pushing past Joonmyun who turns and watches as Jongin leaves him.

Again.

This time, he reaches out, turns and grabs for Jongin’s hand but it’s shaken off, Jongin rounding on him angrily. The sadness, the second heartbreak and the second rejection sends a pike of frustration through Joonmyun. Jongin is rarely disobedient, rarely protests and is soft and gentle. “Don’t walk away from me,” he says, tone stern as he looks up at Jongin.

There is a flash of teeth as Jongin steps back almost violently shaking himself from Joonmyun. “You never stopped me before,” he says, the words heavy in the air. He pauses, his eyes distant as he seems to focus on a thought. “Would you even be here?” he asks, voice far away and hesitant. “If we were still together, right now, would you be here with me?”

Joonmyun opens his mouth to answer yes. He opens his mouth to say of course he would be. He absolutely would be with Jongin, by his side instead of the tall stranger who can’t seem to fit himself into spaces. He opens his mouth and remembers numerous business meetings and countless cancelled dates and rescheduled dinners. He opens his mouth, and no sound comes out.

“Why are you here, Joonmyun?” It's asked so soft, so sadly and so tiredly.

It hurts. Everything hurts all over again. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. “I love you,” cracks from Joonmyun as he looks at Jongin. “I-“

“You wouldn’t,” Jongin says, voice soft but cutting him off as if he screamed. “That’s why, Joonmyun.” He looks back and his eyes are definite. “I’m sorry, for you and for me. For both of us.”

“Jongin,” Joonmyun tries, reaching out and for a moment, Jongin relents, giving in and letting himself get tugged forward, tugged down as Joonmyun leans up. Don’t leave; stop this madness. Come home.

_Come back to me._

“Don’t-“ Jongin says, turning away and pulling back. “I can’t- You-“ Joonmyun leans up, fighting for this last moment, this last chance to- “You’re a horrible kisser,” is like a smack in the face.

“What?” Joonmyun doesn’t entirely know how to deal with this. Neither does Jongin apparently, who is looking anywhere but at him, cheeks red and eyes flickering at anything but Joonmyun as he pulls away.

“I’m sorry, it’s just-“ Jongin sighs, running a hand through his hair. He does this when he’s agitated, nervous and uncomfortable and can’t quite muddle through his words. Joonmyun hates and loves that he knows Jongin this well. “You always have been. It was like kissing was never something you wanted to do, it was just a precursor; something you felt you had to do.” He sighs again, dropping his hand and shaking his head.

In all of his life, romantic and otherwise, Joonmyun has never been informed of something so blatantly and without real warning. But there it is. “I can get better,” he blurts out. It sounds desperate, like Joonmyun is on his last legs, his last stand. He feels that way at least. Maybe that’s what was wrong. “Jongin, if that’s what was wrong then I can-“

“It’s not,” Jongin says, still not looking at him as he frowns. He looks tired again, a dramatic contrast from how vibrant and alive he had looked when he walked in. He looks worn. “Joonmyun, it’s not that. And you can’t fix it.” 

It is not often that Joonmyun is met with something he can’t fix, he can’t work around, and he can’t figure out. And it makes him frustrated as much as it needles away at him. Jongin finally looks up at him, decision set in his eyes. “You’re just going to walk away?” he says, voice tight as his throat constricts further, choking him with emotion. This is all so wrong.

“Yes,” Jongin says as he turns and walks swiftly away, pushing hastily through the crowd and disappearing, leaving Joonmyun in a mixture between anger and, once again, misery. He stands, looking over the masses of people, his eyes trailing over them unseeing, champagne glass held automatically in his hand. On the other side of the room, he can see the taller stranger, stepping up to Jongin, concern on his features as he smoothes back brown bangs from Jongin’s face. Jongin is shaking his head, eyes closed as he doesn't’ step away. The last of Joonmyun falters when a pair of lips press swiftly to a forehead he still considers his before arms wrap around Jongin and pull him close.

The air of the room is suffocating, toxic and sickly sweet, the music softly playing over speakers in tunes of the ethereal voices of wherever grate against the very fibers of his being as Joonmyun leaves, barely remembering to wish the artist his congratulations. He can’t breathe, even with the rush of cool fresh air from the overly circulated air of the gallery, his lungs take in large gasps of air that he can’t process. He barely manages to get to his car before his phone is open, frantically flipping through names and numbers.

He can’t breathe, the conflicting anger, sadness, betrayal and denial all crumbling in his chest as he replays Jongin’s furious face before him. He scans over Jongin’s name, Lu Han’s name, Kyungsoo’s name, Jongdae’s name, Kyuhyun’s name and his vision blurs as he can’t see, hot wet burning stinging his face and he starts to laugh, the sound bitter and horrible in the confined space of his car.

Crying is cathartic. Cryng is healing. Crying is cleansing. Joonmyun hates crying as he slumps burying his face in his arms against the steering wheel, the hysterical sobs wracking through his back as he laughs at the hideousness of everything that is right now.

It’s all gone so wrong, Joonmyun initially expecting to go to the gallery, see Jongin and smile, the other surprised to see him. He expected to see Jongin and to calmly ask Jongin what it was that made him leave. Then Joonmyun would fix it. Would fix them. And they would go home together, Jongin sitting beside him in the car, hand clasped together with his gently and smile on his face as he held an apology and reconciliation bouquet by his chest.

It sits, beautiful petals and greens, dipped and ornamented in pearls and silvers and golds, tipped leaves and ornate, alone. It’s a treacherous mockery of Joonmyun himself in the seat beside him and Joonmyun’s laugh turns sour, dry and cold. The phone in his hands beeps, the light flashing as a voice speaks through the small space of the speaker “Yeah?” and Joonmyun chokes, staring at it.

He doesn’t know when he hit the call button. Or why the name on the screen is flashing at him as Joonmyun puts the phone to his ear and coughs, trying to clear his voice from the horrible stick of crying. “Hello,” he says and winces at how disgusting it sounds.

“Joonmyun?” He sounds surprised. Joonmyun doesn’t blame him; he’s relatively surprised as well.

“Yeah, hi,” Joonmyun says, frowning as he wipes at his face furiously, trying to clear up his voice and choking slightly. “I…“ How do you explain to someone why you called them when you don’t even know yourself? “I don’t really know why I called you.”

“That makes two of us,” says Baekhyun, and the sharpness of his voice is oddly sobering to Joonmyun. “Maybe because you reject normal people’s sleeping habits? It's almost ten thirty.” Joonmyun lets out a cough as he frowns at the other man he can’t even see. “What’s up?”

Joonmyun briefly flashes back to when he met Baekhyun, hunched over a piano bar and crying hideously. It was one of the first things Baekhyun had said to him, that his face looked horrific when he cried. Joonmyun isn’t sure he wants their third encounter to be a revisit of the first. “Never mind,” Joonmyun says, rubbing the heel of his hand into the bridge of his nose and inhaling deeply. “I’ll just-“

“Where are you?” The question is abrupt, unexpected and Joonmyun pauses, blinking at the windshield.

“What?”

“Where are you?” Baekhyun repeats.

“Really, Baekhyun.” Joonmyun shouldn’t have called, still doesn’t know why he called, and means to hang up very soon. “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have called. I am sorry for bothering you.”

“I’m bored,” Baekhyun says succinctly. “Where are you?”

_Outside an art gallery in my car crying into my steering wheel because everything is wrong and he doesn’t want me._ Joonmyun frowns at his own thought process, degrading and pathetic, but mostly factual. He’s a horrible kisser. He frowns more. “Downtown,” he finally says, skirting specifics.

“Awesome,” Baekhyun says. “I’ll meet you on the central bridge in twenty?” The line clicks to end and Joonmyun blinks, pulling his phone away and stares at it in shock, not entirely sure what has just happened. He didn’t even agree.

Baekhyun is waiting for him, a slightly too large jacket around his shoulders as he slouches against the railing of the bridge and has his hands shoved in his pockets. His hair isn’t styled, lying atop his head gently and buffeting slightly in the wind. Joonmyun hopes his face doesn’t show significant signs of crying as he gets out of his car, flashers blinking, and waves awkwardly. “Hey.”

“Sup,” Baekhyun says, grinning brightly as he remains slouched against the railing. “Were you crying?”

Shit. “No,” Joonmyun says anyway as he walks to join Baekhyun.

“Yes, you were,” Baekhyun says, eyeing him as he approaches, hands drawing from oversized pockets and shaking slightly. “What’s up? Am I your official crying buddy now?”

“No,” Joonmyun says again, frowning slightly now as he walks to look over the bridge and the dark swirling waters below them. Baekhyun leans on the railing beside him, rocking slightly. “I don't know why I called you.”

“It was destiny,” Baekhyun says, looking out over the river. “You must have sensed I was bored. You even wept for my boredom. I’m touched.” Joonmyun turns to direct his frown at him. Baekhyun grins back, eyes crinkling up in merriment. “You want to talk?”

He doesn’t in the same way that he does. There isn’t really a good explanation as to why Joonmyun was even on his phone, searching through his contacts, in the first place. Kyungsoo doesn’t put up with bullshit, kind with some but overall telling Joonmyun to suck it up and deal with it. Not everyone is moved by a sunset on a daily basis, he’ll tell Joonmyun, before stating Joonmyun is just one of those special cases.

Kyungsoo has already made it very apparent Joonmyun needs to move on. Even Lu Han, who prowls about doing double the work he ever needs to, seems to be concerned and made a point to tell Joonmyun he’d get over it soon. The only two people who know that Joonmyun is dealing with a break up are telling him to get over it.

Joonmyun doesn’t want to get over it. He wants Jongin.

“Are you going to cry again?” Baekhyun asks, nudging him with his shoulder and peering at him through the dim illumination of the streetlight.

“No,” Joonmyun says even as his throat constricts. Holding in emotions, especially when he’s been stuck on them for so long like this, is not his strong suit.

“You sure?” Baekhyun asks, nudging him again. “I know,” he says, snapping his fingers and grabbing Joonmyun by the arm, pulling the startled man around and grinning, tugging him back to his car. Joonmyun stumbles, not prepared to be manhandled so suddenly and his eyes widen as Baekhyun’s hands go for the passenger side door.

“Baekhyun, wait-“

The sad unwanted bouquet of flowers lies in the front seat, gilded and gorgeous and without their intended recipient to accompany them. Joonmyun feels bile sting into his mouth as the beginnings of tears clog up his throat. Again. Baekhyun is staring at him. “Are these for me?” he asks, suddenly grinning and cocking his head to the side with a coy wink. Joonmyun bursts into unrestricted sobs. It’s not fair. Baekhyun’s smile slips slightly, looking down at the bouquet and picking it up, looking at Joonmyun “Apparently not,” he sighs. “You really do look hideous when you cry.”

“Shut up.” Joonmyun is not the mood for this. The bouquet is gorgeous. It should be, the pretty penny it cost for the florist to arrange it and perfect the petals with sparkling pearls and flecks of gold. “That’s-“

“Not for me, I know,” Baekhyun says, gingerly holding the bouquet as if it might shatter if he isn’t careful. “Who?”

They’re gorgeous, even in the night lighting, the leaves and flowers beautiful in the night. “Jongin,” Joonmyun says roughly, his voice raw from tears he doesn’t even bother hiding. He’s too miserable to. Tonight has gone all wrong. “They’re for Jongin.”

Baekhyun hums, gently tugging at a fluffy sprig of green, poking up amid the array of soft white and pink, the subtle mixes of blue splashing between. “When are you going to give them to him?” He looks up, head tilted to the side.

Never. It’s an answer he doesn’t want, is still having a hard time accepting. In many ways he still, after a month, after seeing Jongin walk away from him a second time, still can’t accept. “He didn’t want them,” Joonmyun says quietly, his eyes on the bouquet which costs probably more than the jacket Baekhun is wearing.

“You’re ex?” It hurts. Joonmyun closes his eyes, turning. _Don’t_.

A soft hum of understanding floats to him through the cool air and Joonmyun opens his eyes in time to see Baekhyun nod gently, fingers trailing carefully over the bouquet before his mouth presses into a thin link, brows furrowing. “Pity,” he says, glancing up at Joonmyun before turning sharply, grip tightening around the bouquet, stepping forward once, twice, and then running, Joonmyun’s eyes widening in shock.

“What are you doing?” Joonmyun yells, running after Baekhyun as the other man reels back, barely stopping at the railing of the bridge before hurling the flower bouquet, flower petals glittering in the brief light of the street lamps before it hurtles into the darkness. Joonmyun turns to Baekhyun who is watching the direction the flowers went flying with a mix between appreciation and pride. “Why would you do that?” he yells, faltering between leaping after the long gone flowers and on top of Baekhyun, probably to hit him.

“He didn’t want them,” Baekhyun says, frowning into the darkness he sent the flowers sailing into, dusting his hands lightly. “He didn’t want them and every time you looked at them you get that whibbly look on your face.” He turns to look at Joonmyun. “Come on,” he says clapping him on his shoulder as Joonmyun continues to stare in relative disbelief to where the flowers, adorned with pearls and gold, have vanished into the night. “I have an idea.”

“I don’t like you,” Joonmyun says, stumbling slightly as Baekhyun shoves him into the passenger seat easily, ruffling his hair and destroying the styling as another unexpected sob hits Joonmyun in the chest.

“Shame,” Baekhyun hums throwing him a slightly saddened look. “Most people do.”

“What are you doing?” Joonmyun asks, voice scratching as he frowns at Baekhyun slipping happily into the driver’s seat.

“Driving,” Baekhyun says. “Unless you want to walk there and have your car towed later.”

“You’re not driving my car,” Joonmyun says, grabbing the keys from the ignition quickly and giving Baekhyun a tired annoyed look.

“And you are?” Baekhyun throws back with a skeptical expression. “You, who broke out into sobs over flowers, are going to drive?” He scoffs. “I am declaring you emotionally compromised and taking over this ship,” he says, lurching forward and over Joonmyun, who lets out a yelp. It isn’t much of a fight, Baekhyun far more ambitious than Joonmyun has energy to fight and he pulls back triumphantly to set the keys into the ignition. “I’ll be gentle,” he says, winking at Joonmyun before pulling from the curb.

It’s a movie theater. Old and not entirely in the best condition, the carpets worn and threadbare in some places and the staff looking like they survive on energy drinks and cheese snacks through the night. It’s past eleven thirty and the place is still open, a list of movies written on the board and relative show times all scribbled beside. It looks entirely run down and entirely out of Joonmyun’s field of comfort. “Places like this actually exist?” he asks, looking at Baekhyun who is tapping his lips, face scrunched up in contemplation as he looks over the movie listings.

“Tickets are half off after eleven,” Baekhyun says. “They’re open all night, one of the few places that still has late night shows. Mostly B movies and weird hybrids between rom coms and psychological thrillers.” Joonmyun shivers as he looks over the titles. Unfortunately the titles don’t really help him discern which are which.

The option of choosing though doesn’t fall to him, Baekhyun instead stepping forward and purchasing two tickets to a double feature of something that is hopefully not horror and requesting popcorn and sodas. He shoves a punched card at the speckley kid behind the register and ends up getting the popcorn for free. 

The movie seats are squashy, not entirely uncomfortable but have definitely seen their fair share of use. It isn’t until Baekhyun shoves a handful of buttery popcorn into his palm that Joonmyun realizes Baekhyun hasn’t asked him. Hasn’t really questioned why Joonmyun called him, pressed for information. Joonmyun expected him to, in many ways. Being called up randomly by a man you have only met two times before and both circumstances not entirely lending themselves to indicate extended friendship, is not exactly normal. Then again, as Joonmyun glances to Baekhyun, watching him shove a handful of popcorn into his mouth as he watches the screen and the advertisements for back pills, Baekhyun isn’t exactly what Joonmyun would call normal.

“How long?” Joonmyun asks, looking up at the screen as well.

“How long what?” Baekhyun asks, nudging Joonmyun with a knee. Joonmyun’s eyes still feel raw, his system tired from the random bouts of crying that suddenly seem to hit him for no real reason other than he’s miserable still.

“Are the movies?” Joonmyun elaborates, finally popping some of the popcorn into his mouth. It’s heavily laden with butter and salt and he can feel the grease on his hands. It’s been a very long time since he got movie theater popcorn, usually too conscious of eating well and getting grease on his pants. He realizes he missed the taste even if it is mostly chemicals and not really good for him.

“About an hour or so,” Baekhyun says, looking over. “I got the rom com’s because you flinched at the mention of thrillers. Plus I figured since you seem to be a sobbing phase, a romantic comedy might help.” He smiles, offering Joonmyun more popcorn and Joonmyun considers how long it has been since he sat in a movie theater just for the hell of it and watched a movie.

A long time.

As it turns out, while romantic comedies may have been selected with good intentions, Joonmyun doesn’t last through the first twenty minutes before he’s sobbing again, the darkness of the theater hiding his face as hot tears roll down and drop into his lap, handfuls of popcorn only occasionally making it through the storm of hiccupping gasps of misery as the characters on screen all speak horribly written dialogue and act unrealistically shocked and sappily in love. The movies are terrible, abominations of cinema, and Joonmyun can’t stop crying at them as it feels like his whole pathetic situation is shoved into him.

Half way through the seventh horribly enacted kiss scene, Joonmyun starts babbling, making incoherent comments at the screen like ‘she’s just going to use you’ and ‘because you’re in love, you idiot’ and ‘it’s her sister!’ ranging among the most coherent ones. Baekhyun, it appears, is having just as much fun watching him as the movies.

It’s a horrible mess of ugly crying and Joonmyun uses as many napkins to mop at his face and nose as he does his hands from buttery popcorn grease, coughing through sobs and laughing pathetically at some of the horribly written jokes. But then, right at the dramatic ending kiss between the farmer’s daughter and the dashing city boy from the future, the comments from earlier that evening slam into him and he breaks down all over again.

“He didn’t even like kissing me!” Joonmyun sobs loudly, fresh tears hitting down his cheeks as he remembers the reluctant and rejecting face of Jongin, pulling away. He can feel Baekhyun turning to look at him in surprised confusion. A large part of him doesn’t care, the horrible accusation and stark admission from Jongin still resounding in his mind as he turns to Baekhyun.

“Well,” Baekhyun says, face shadowed in the dark of the theater, his eyes only visible from the light of the movie screen as he looks over Joonmun’s face. “Okay?”

It’s a horrible thing to be told you’re a bad kisser. It’s not as bad as someone saying you’re horrible in bed, but it is pretty horrible. Joonmyun had never really considered if he was good or bad at kissing. Kissing is just something you do. It doesn’t make sense but apparently he’s bad. And now that he thinks about it, Joonmyun never really kissed a lot, instead pressing short and swift lips to cheeks or other lips. Jongin had originally started out with long kisses, but they shortened quickly to swift and fast. “Am I really that bad of a kisser?” he asks.

Baekhyun blinks at him, his face widening in surprise as he looks at Joonmyun in bewilderment. “Dude,” he says, shaking his head a little. “You are asking the wrong person.”

Of course Baekhyun doesn’t know. Baekhyun has only met him two times prior to this. Baekhyun doesn’t know him, has never dated him, never kissed him. Baekhyun doesn’t really know Joonmyun. Baekhyun doesn’t pull away, just watching Joonmyun. He sniffs, his eyes flickering to a thin mouth, then back to curious widened eyes, then back down and the words _you’re a terrible kisser_ slam through his mind and he lets out a disgusted sob before turning back to the movie and shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. He cries even through the crunchy popcorn at the screen as all the kisses he shared seem to amount to nothing but the fact that he’s allegedly terrible.

Joonmyun has never cried so long or so intensely in his entire life. The horribly made romantic comedies that show on the screen and just seem to get worse and worse as Baekhyun smiles silently and sits with him as he sobs horribly. It’s so strange, how somehow sitting there with someone he barely knows, and Joonmyun is sobbing and randomly spitting out useless comments about his own misery, the characters misery completely irrelevant. But yet there it is, and by the time the second movie is done, Joonmyun is weak, tired from crying and completely drained, eyes red and raw and unable to cry anymore.

“How are you feeling?” Baekhyun asks, stretching his arms over his head as he looks at Joonmyun and then winces, offering an apologetic but sympathetic smile. He says nothing, thankfully.

“Dry,” Joonmyun says, voice rasping as he sniffs slightly. His face itches where the tears dried and his eyes hurt but he can’t cry anymore. There’s nothing left.

“Well then, water works,” Baekhyun says, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. “I think it’s onto phase two.”

It’s two in the morning. It’s two in the morning and tomorrow is Sunday and the last time Joonmyun was out past two am on a Saturday with company that wasn’t Jongin or business related has been a very long time. “There’s a phase two?”

It’s three thirty when Joonmyun turns off the ignition of his car and looks at Baekhyun who is doodling on the condensation of the window, jacket pulled about his shoulders and still a size too big. “Thanks,” he says, smiling weakly, but smiling at least, and for a night that involved almost three hours of straight sobbing, that’s a massive achievement.

Settling back into the passenger seat, Baekhyun just smiles, head turned to him and somehow still looking wide awake and alive. “Don’t mention it,” he says, giving Joonmyun a light pat on the shoulder that holds for a moment. “I gave you my number for it to be called, not ignored and forgotten.”

He grins, a brilliant flash of white teeth as his eyes crinkle up into crescents, probably unable to see, before the car door opens and Baekhyun is hopping out and disappearing into the night.

Joonmyun doesn’t really understand Baekhyun, and he’s still not entirely sure what to think of him, but a part of him, the part that smiles, albeit small, doesn’t mind him. Not really. He falls asleep almost instantly upon getting home, exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally, and sleeps better than he has in a month.

-

On second evaluation, Joonmyun considers that waking up at nine in the morning after going to bed close to four and calling someone who was up just as long as you might not be entirely proper or respectful. Of course, these things are often just clearer in retrospect. For example, upon waking up and blinking through sleep, Joonmyun realizes that perhaps his display last night wasn’t entirely appropriate. He did, after all, call up Baekhyun completely out of the blue and drag him out to cry at him for three hours and monopolize his time. Baekhyun treated him to the movies and to food. It’s only considerate Joonmun to try to repay him.

“The fuck,” groans over the phone and Joonmyun realizes this may not have been the best idea. “It’s nine in the morning. Why are you even alive?”

“Good morning to you, too,” Joonmyun says and Baekhyun groans again. Joonmyun winces. Baekhyun does sound very tired. “Look, I’m sorry for waking you up so early-“

“If you were really sorry, you would hang up right now and go back to sleep,” is grumbled back and Joonmyun closes his eyes, continuing despite the negative statement.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night,” Joonmyun continues. “I was wondering if I could treat you to brunch.”

There is a loud rustling sound that is probably sheets on the other end of the phone. “You called me at nine in the morning to ask me out to brunch,” Baekhyun says flatly and Joonmyun sits up a bit more on the edge of his bed. “Who the hell even goes to brunch?”

Rude. “I know a few places,” Joonmyun continues. “There is a really nice place up on the east side, serves until two and has amazing French cuisine. Or-“

“Fuck no,” slams through the line and has Joonmyun stopping in his listing of the brunch establishments he knows. “Call me again in a few hours. I’m in no condition to make executive decisions. Go back to sleep.”

The call ends with a dull dial tone and Joonmyun slowly pulls his phone from his ear, staring at it in relative degrees of shock. No one he has ever asked out to brunch before has ever shot him down so fast and so definitely. It’s a little jarring.

At noon, Baekhyun is much more receptive to getting phone calls, answering the phone without profanity and telling Joonmyun to meet him downtown near the north side of the main strip. “Near the coffee shop you were ghosting the other day,” he informs Joonmyun before rambling about sandwiches for a good five minutes and then disconnecting.

Joonmyun briefly thinks about the brunch he had thought out, where he sits across from Baekhyun at an appropriate distance as they talk. Joonmyun will apologize for his behavior over salmon with capers and a soufflé egg with spinach. It doesn’t seem to really fit, now he’s standing beside Baekhyun in the small sandwich shop looking at a handwritten menu with man smiling warmly behind the register. The enthusiastic “Hi Baekhyun!’ that he chirps as soon as Baekhyun walks in and whoops is welcoming though as Joonmyun follows him and his bright attitude seems to fill the small area. The floor is old and tiled, the chairs made of metal and looking cheap, and there is a napkin and condiments bar.

Baekhyun orders his sandwich and nudges Joonmyun to do the same. They end up paying the smiling happily guy far less than Joonmyun is used to paying for meals when he goes out with others. Baekhyun chooses a seat by the window, settling down with a sigh and looking up at Joonmyun with a smile.

“Why here?” Joonmyun asks, it being the first thing on his mind.

“They give you unlimited pickles and chips,” Baekhyun says with a shrug, pointedly nodding to the chair Joonmyun has yet to sit down in.

“Are you serious?” Joonmyun asks, never once before knowing someone who selects a restaurant based on whether they give you extra pickles and chips before.

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says, grinning happily. “It’s awesome.” The man behind the counter calls Baekhyun’s name and he jumps up, shoving Joonmyun down to sit before getting their orders. He returns with three baskets, one holding a sandwich and three pickles, one holding a sandwich and ten pickles, and an entire basket of chips.

“You can’t be serious,” Joonmyun says, staring at the pickles.

“Pickles are always serious,” Baekhyun says in a grave voice as he stares at Joonmyun looking very no-nonsense from across the table before taking a very pointed bite of one of his many pickles. He then grins and the flip in expression is still something Joonmyun isn't used to. “Why did you want to apologize?”

Joonmyun stills, having just taken a bite of his sandwich. Somehow between this hole in the wall sandwich shop just down the street from the café where he had met Baekhyun for a second time, Joonmyun forgot. He clears his throat, wiping his mouth as he swallows the small bite of food he’s taken. “For last night.”

Head cocking to the side as he munches on a few chips, Baekkyun studies him. “What about it?”

“I was inappropriate,” Joonmyun begins. Joonmyun, if anything, is a person of stature and class. He holds himself well, represents himself well (even if he’s been in a bit of a lapse the past few weeks) and is rarely as completely undone like he was last night. “I imposed on you and-“

“Joonmyun,” Baekhyun cuts him off with a frown and throws a chip at him. “I agreed to come out and meet you. You weren’t imposing on me.” He frowns, putting down his food before leaning across the table. “What happened?” Joonmyun presses his lips together. It’s been a month, a month of an empty apartment and spaces he can’t fill and hoping that the door will open and warmth will flow back into his life. It’s been a month and Joonmyun still can’t accept it. Baekhyun sighs, picking up a second pickle and munching on it. “Can you at least tell me what the whole kissing thing was about?”

A frown. “What kissing thing?”

Baekhyun shrugs, halfway through his pickle and hunches over his basket of sandwich and chips and pickles. “The whole thing where you went ‘he said I’m a terrible kisser’ and then started bawling.” Baekhyun isn’t a very tactful person, instead blunt and honest and completely blatant with his speech, his words not at all padded or softened as he speaks them.

It’s oddly refreshing from the tentative speech that Joonmyun often hears and uses. “Oh,” he says, feeling unable to completely elaborate at the moment. Baekhyun sits back, dusting his hands as he surveys Joonmyun hold his sandwich carefully. “It’s complicated.”

“So is physics,” Baekhyun says. “But people learn to comprehend it.” Joonmyun isn’t sure how to interpret this and settles for giving a sigh. Baekhyun watches him. “You don’t have to say anything,” he says after a pause, picking up another pickle and tapping it gently to the side of his sandwich basket. “But if you want to, or if you need to, I’m willing to listen.”

Joonmyun looks up, meets Baekhyun’s eyes, inhales with the intent to shake his head and decline when suddenly it’s all flooding out of him, his mouth moving and voice working. He babbles and rambles and about the previous evening, not really filling in the back story of his two year relationship with Jongin, the break up that happened so swiftly, and the month of trialing after him, not ready to let go or give up. He still has hope, even as he tells Baekhyun about Jongin pulling away from him so intensely and about the other man with Jongin. He still has hope even as his voice quiets and he speaks softly, head hanging as his eyes drop from Baekhyun’s ever steadily watching ones to rest on the basket of chips.

For someone who rambles constantly and never seems to stop talking, Baekhyun is an astoundingly good listener, mouth closed as Joonmyun goes on, repeating the same thing and stuttering through names and references and over facts and skipping details. When his voice finally stops abruptly, ceasing over the moment when Jongin had walked from him that first time, leaving Joonmyun, Baekhyun just sits quietly and waits, as if allowing him a moment to settle.

“I’m sorry,” Baekhyun says and it’s simple, quiet, and for once, not laced with sarcasm or insincerity or jest. It’s real and somehow it is more soothing than anything anyone has said to him so far. “You’ve obviously been having a rough time with this whole thing.” Joonmyun sighs at the accuracy of the statement.

“Yeah,” Joonmyun says, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite. It tastes good, delicious actually. Something he’s begun to notice is that somehow, despite how random and out of place and discounted most of the things Baekhyun has dragged him to or shoved into his hands, none of it is bad. It’s a little odd, but Joonmyun can’t really complain. “I’d say that’s a bit accurate.”

Baekhyun hums, picking up his fifth pickle and munching on it. “You know what you need?” he says, pointing to Joonmyun with the half eaten pickle, a contemplative look on his face. Joonmyun raises his eyebrows as Baekhyun grins, obviously struck with a brilliant idea. “A distraction,” he says, gesturing the pickle in emphasis. “You need something to keep your mind off it, help you move on, forget about Jongin.”

This has a frown pulling over Joonmyun’s features. It’s not that easy. “I can’t move on just like that,” Joonmyun says, irritation prickling at him. “I can’t just let go and move on and forget about-“ The name sticks in his throat. He can’t let go, not yet. “I still love him.”

The pickle stays aloft as Baekhyun surveys him, a small frown on his face. “I am not saying to completely forget him,” he says, sighing and looking down at the basket of chips, finally taking another bite of his pickle. “I am just saying try to do something else, branch out a little, hang out with people.” He pops a chip into his mouth. “You can hang out with me.” He grins and it’s full of potato and pickle and squinted eyes. “I’m a great person to hang out with, as exhibited last night.”

The statement is arrogant, self-assured and Joonmyun stares as Baekhyun smiles and eats his lunch as if he has no cares in the world. He sits and eats his unlimited pickles and chips and eats his way though a sandwich as Joonmyun does so with slightly less wolfish bites. Kyungsoo has told Joonmyun he needs to move on, get out more, take a break, get out of his apartment and out of the rut he’s dug for himself around the hole Jongin left in his life. Lu Han has expressed his concern, face creasing in a million different ways as he looks at Joonmyun and suggests social events and parties. Jongdae has asked him with increasing frequency if everything is alright, assured him that he’s there if he ever needs him. Kyuhyun and Donghae have both stopped by more often than not, checking in and inviting him to drinks, all of which he declines with a small smile.

“You don’t have to,” he tells Baekhyun, looking back down at his sandwich and flicking at the crinkly wax sandwich paper lining the sandwich basket.

“I know.” A casual shrug as the seventh pickle is picked up between thin fingers and swished through the air. Baekhyun doesn’t look at him, instead gazing out the window as he takes a bite of food and chews slowly, as if deeply contemplating. “I don’t have to,” he says, fingers of his free hand tapping a simple pattern on the table as he shakes his hair from his face and turns to meet Joonmyun’s gaze. “But I want to.”

They don’t know each other. Barely a month ago, they were complete strangers at a piano bar as Joonmyun cried into whiskey and his hands. They don’t know each other well and neither of them has a reason to know each other aside from the fact that they do. But yet here Baekhyun sits across from him after meeting now three times, grinning with a pickle against his lips, and Joonmyun finds himself nodding and saying ‘okay’ without really considering what he might be signing up for.

“Awesome,” Baekhyun says, picking up the chip basket and offering it to Joonmyun. “Eat up, they’re free.”

He knows virtually nothing about the man before him, holding a basket of baked potato snacks aside from that he can consume up to ten pickles in a sitting and is insanely adept at finding discounts. He knows nothing about him really, no history, no job, no family status or members. He doesn’t know if Baekhyun practices religion or not or if he likes cats or dogs or is allergic to anything. He doesn’t know him at all and somehow, the fact that Joonmyun doesn’t know him at all makes this feel less stressful.

Baekhyun doesn’t really know him either, aside from that he’s recently out of a relationship he doesn’t accept. He knows he has a nice car and buys expensive bouquets and cries at romantic comedies. He knows he likes whiskey but other than that, Baekhyun really has no idea who he is.

“What do you do?” Joonmyun asks, picking up his sandwich and looking at Baekhyun as he takes a bite, for once not being clean and neat, just sinking his teeth in.

“Beside breathe and eat and sleep?” Baekhyun asks, sitting back. He grins at the look Joonmyun throws him that borders on annoyance. “I own a small shop,” he says, popping the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth. “Selling people things they want to buy and keeping track of receipts.”

“What kind of shop?” Joonmyun asks. Most people he knows run a business, though far more impressive than a simple shop. Though perhaps Baekhyun’s shop is impressive and he’s just being modest. The vast majority of people Joonmyun knows and calls his ‘friends and associates’ own or are involved in some large business, a corporation or enterprise that fill pockets with money and bank accounts with future retirement.

“A this and that sort of place.” Joonmyun has no idea what kind of shop this might be. “Mostly trinkets and things people might want or need. It’s nothing big, just something to get by. It’s simple.” Baekhyun shrugs. “We have an amazing gum assortment. And a lot of jelly beans if you like them.” He grins. “You should come by some time.”

“Do I get a discount?” Joonmyun asks, the question slipping off his tongue easily as his mouth quirks in a small teasing smile.

“Absolutely not,” Baekhyun say almost immediately. “You pay full price or go home with nothing.” But he grins as he picks up his last pickle and Joonmyun can’t help but smile back. “What do you do?”

After hearing Baekhyun it almost sounds arrogant to reveal what it is that Joonmyun does. The owner and top member of one of the biggest companies around and here he is eating sandwiches with unlimited chips and pickles. But Baekhyun was honest with him. He can at least have the decency to do the same. “I am the CEO of an electrical company,” he says as casually as he can.

“What kind of electrical company?” Baekhyun immediately asks, eating another chip and watching Joonmyun easily. “Electrical as in you provide the city with electricity or you make interesting gadgets or you make robots or-“

“We specialize in electrical illumination,” Joonmyun cuts Baekhyun off before he can start rambling on and on again. “We work with a lot of the home and development companies as well as doing home design and event work.”

“So…” Baekhyun chews his lip, fingers tapping against the table. “If I want to wrap the trees outside my house in pretty fairy lights…”

It’s abstract but – “Yes, we also do that,” Joonmyun says with a small sigh. Not exactly the most impressive thing they do, that being often working with the fantastic light displays used in fountains, amusement parks and public shows. “We have a wide variety of fields we work in.”

“You sound so impressive,” Baekhyun says. It’s not said in awe or fawning over him. It’s just a simple statement, like Baekhyun is getting the fact out there, over and done with so he never has to mention it again. It’s the first time it has happened to Joonmyun and it’s oddly refreshing.

Baekhyun doesn't ask him how much money he has, what kind of cars he owns, where he lives or what kind of brand he prefers. Baekhyun doesn’t once ask about his money. Instead, after chatting idly over music and having a long rambling conversation about extreme sports, Baekhyun gathers up the left over chips from the basket and stands.

“Time to go?” Joonmyun asks, not entirely sure how he feels about this. About leaving and going home and returning to hues of blue and memory and the lingering sense of emptiness. Spaces filled with laughter and smiles and a person gone ghosting through him in constant reminder.

“Ducks,” Baekhyun says, grinning as he crinkles up the edges of the wax sandwich paper and shrugs his too large jacket about his shoulders. That is the only further explanation he gives, just continuing to grin as he leads Joonmyun from the sandwich shops, calling a thanks to the man behind the counter who waves cheerfully.

‘Ducks’ turns out to be real ducks. Running around on grass, quacking, hobbling and pecking at everything. The soft quacking sounds keeps going at a constant natural rhythm, only understood by the ducks and Joonmyun still isn’t sure what they’re doing here by the side of a river that spills down in a park he’s never really been to before.

“And we’re here… why?”

Baekhyun looks at him incredulously. “Don’t tell me you’ve never fed ducks before,” he says, shaking the crinkled wax paper full of the unlimited free chips. “You haven’t lived, Joonmyun.”

Feeding ducks seems completely pointless. They can find their own food perfectly find on their own, but Baekhyun seems determined as he shoves a handful of chips, some of them crushed into small fragments. He grins as he steps forward carefully, making soft sounds to the ducks who all look at him curiously before he tosses some of the chips down at the birds. Almost instantly, Baekhyun has about twenty-three feathery new friends and some of them are now looking at Joonmyun in expectant curiosity.

Somehow, as the aquatic ducks all quack excitedly with each handful of crushed chips Joonmyun tosses to him, it is fun. Watching the small animals run about in excitement, all clustering over the small tidbits of food and running about is enjoyable and he smiles. Joonmyun fakes a few times, tricking the silly creatures before actually letting out a laugh and throwing the food. Glancing up, he sees Baekhyun watching him, a smile on his face before he turns back to waddling after his own herd of ducks, making small very inaccurate quacking sounds.

Yes, Baekhyun certainly isn’t like anyone Joonmyun has ever met before.

“See?” he chirps, standing and dusting his hands, wiping them a bit on his jeans and he moves to stand beside Joonmyun, chops gone and wax paper crumpled in his pocket. The ducks are all wandering around, searching for any morsels they may have missed. “Ducks.” He grins. “Simple, 100% free fun.”

“You really have a thing for saving money,” Joonmyun points out, looking at Baekhyun and feeling a small twist that is unlike the usual painful twists in his stomach associated with heartbreak. This is more like intrigue.

“I just don't want to worry about it,” Baekhyun says, shaking his hair from his face, squinting in the sunlight. “The best things in life are free, after all.” He smiles and though Joonmyun has heard this statement before, hearing Baekhyun say it seems sobering more than anything.

It feels cold, unfamiliar and foreign, as if Joonmyun isn’t walking into what is his home, his apartment, the place he lives. It feels strange after a day where he was beside a bright smiling face that joked as much as poked fun and he never knew what was next. But stepping into his apartment, it all comes back, sinking into him in dead weight and exhaustion.

But there it is, the familiar color tones and hues of blue sweeping before him as the light turns on. The memory of another, stuck in everything and dragging him back down, the stretch and swell of monotone color before him laying heavily into him.. He hangs up his coat automatically, smoothing over the folds and his fingers and eyes linger on the longer, larger coat that hangs beside it. Waiting, just like he is, for it’s owner to return.

Being with Baekhyun helps, eases some of it, distracts his mind from memories. But at the end of the day, Joonmyun is still sprawled on his couch, arm thrown over his face and trying to breathe evenly as he swallows down a throat sore from pushing down feelings.

Images from the previous evening flash before his mind, the angry face of Jongin glaring at him, his eyes swimming in emotion and hurt and exhaustion. Those same eyes closing as he leans into another and Joonmyun frowns, arm dropping from over his eyes as he stares at the ceiling. He custom installed the lights above him, the design from his own company and perfectly illuminating the room that holds nothing but hard reminders in the furniture selected and provided for someone absent.

This is their home. Joonmyun’s and Jongin’s. A home is a place you return to, where you find comfort and things you love and where you belong.

Jongin belongs with Joonmyun.

Joonmyun’s mouth sets into a line. He can wait, will keep everything, and wait. He will wait for Jongin to come home to him.

A soft kiss to a forehead he knows and loves, the taller stranger holding with arms and hands that don’t deserve, have no right to touch. The image, playing over and over in his mind as the flare of irritation, possessive claim growing as he watches over and over hands that aren’t his holding Jongin’s. Hands brushing back hair that he has brushed back time and time again, smoothing over skin and Jongin’s attention focused away, on another.

What does he have that Joonmyun lacks? Jongin was angry the other day, hurt and distraught; unstable. The emotion in his eyes swimming as to how torn he was; how torn he is right now. Possibly even confused and the idea of another stepping in, taking advantage of that confusion sends anger racing through him. He’s angry that Jongin isn’t with him, that he’s with another, but at the same time, Joonmyun cares. He cares and is concerned and he doesn’t know. He cares and worries and the image of Jongin returning to him broken and hurt is worse than Jongin returning to him in regret. The image of him finding his way back only after experiencing the opposite of what Joonmyun ever wanted for him gnaws at him, stabs into his mind and Joonmyun shoves aside his preconceived notions.

Joonmyun knows everyone Jongin knows, perhaps not personally and not on an intimate basis, but he knows who they are enough that he can nod and pull up a face to match a name when Jongin mentions them absently over dinner. He has never seen or heard of the tall man who was far too comfortable with Jongin.

It’s been barely a month and Joonmyun doesn’t trust it.

It’s not jealousy. Joonmyun refuses to deign to such levels of pettiness. He’s protective. And part of that is to ensure that Jongin is safe. That when Jongin returns, when Jongin comes home to him, he will do so unbroken.

-

“We need confirmation on this.”

Joonmyun looks up, blinking and shaking his head, startled from his thoughts over the weekend’s events as Lu Han gives him a raised look, pen stuck behind his ear and collar undone. He is still wearing professional clothing, but something about it screams lazy. Which is ironic considering Lu Han is one of the most efficient people at the company, one of the reasons he’s positioned right below Joonmyun. “What?” he asks, taking the documents offered to him as Lu Han’s pose relaxes back and he rifles through some other papers in his hands.

“For Hong Kong,” Lu Han says, his eyes lingering on Joonmyun as he slows through sorting his papers. “We need to go over the businesses we are planning to partner with and review the details.” He pauses, tongue clicking slightly as he gives Joonmyun a calculating look. “Unless you’re not up for it.”

It’s Monday and Joonmyun is still reeling slightly from everything of the weekend, mind racing and even if it’s nearly noon, thinking over the Hong Kong trip just has him back on Jongin. It doesn't’ sit well, especially after the confrontation on Saturday that didn’t go at all as Joonmyun had hoped. Even with the distraction of Baekhyun’s presence and words giving some relief, it’s still there with shards of memory sticking. He’s not ready to concentrate on Hong Kong when Jongin just threw him back so violently.

“Joonmyun?” Lu Han asks, head tilting slightly in survey and Joonmyun shakes his head, opening the folder and skimming over it without taking anything in.

“Yes,” Joonmyun says, nodding and not looking at Lu Han. Lu Han doesn’t need to know, the other man already clued in thanks to Kyungsoo enough regarding his personal life. He doesn’t need to know that Joonmyun is still lingering. He doesn’t need to give Lu Han more to use, more leverage when Lu Han already seems to be crawling over the status system and edging closer to Joonmyun’s position. “Thank you, I’ll have them back to you by the end of the day.”

Lu Han says nothing, instead stepping from the office with a last look before tugging the pen from his ear and muttering something, scribbling over documents as he leaves. Joonmyun sighs and drops the folder, hands dragging over his face. Hong Kong is important and he needs to focus on it, set the details in order. Since the change in the planning, he and Kyungsoo have been scheduling over the time initially intended for vacation purposes. With every block of time that is sectioned off for another consult, another meeting, and another conference, Joonmyun watches a part of Jongin scratched out. He hates it as well as grits his teeth at the necessity of it.

“You don’t have to do those,” Kyungsoo’s voice says, jerking Joonmyun back to attention. He hadn’t heard Kyungsoo come in, let alone approach the desk.

Shaking his head and frowning, running fingers through styled bangs and fixing whatever may be out of place, Joonmyun sighs. “Give me some sort of warning next time, would you,” he says, opening his eyes to shoot the other man a pointed look.

“What, you want me to knock and announce myself like some sort of page?” Kyungsoo asks, giving him a dark look. “I am not your servant.”

“You’re my secretary and personal assistant,” Joonmyun points out, figuring the position to essentially put Kyungsoo lower than him in status within the business.

“You forget to eat when I don’t make you,” Kyungsoo reminds him as he places a coffee on the desk, right on time and folds his arms over his chest.

“You sound like my mother,” Joonmyun grumbles, looking back down at the documents before him and sighing, grabbing his coffee and pulling it towards him. “I’m fine, I can do these.” He flips through the pages, over names and numbers and details, dates and prices swimming into a blur of information. “Really, it’s fine, I’ll get them to you by the afternoon.”

“It _is_ the afternoon,” Kyungsoo reminds him with a quick tap to the desk and Joonmyun looks up at him with a frown. “Seriously, I’ll take care of the documents. You focus on your own work.” Work which composes of Joonmyun pushing through memos and work schedules and reviewing the details of Hong Kong ad nauseam while his mind turns over Jongin over. Joonmyun just shakes his head, ignoring Kyungsoo’s pointed look before the other man finally leaves, letting him be with his own thoughts.

Monday’s are always hard days in the work week, dragging on after the weekend and seeming to lag as the pace of the week sets in and today seems to be the worst of them. Joonmyun finally manages to get through the last of the documents, buzzing in Kyungsoo to pick them up as he rubs a hand over his face tiredly.

He needs to go home. He needs to sleep and sort through things and try to get his mind off the vicious cycle of Jongin and Hong Kong and the other man’s fire laden gaze as he looked at Joonmyun before turning and walking away. The image of Jongin’s back to him as he walked away, this time visibly, Joonmyun’s hand thrown off before Jongin steppedto another, burns in his mind. Jongin should be stepping close to him, stepping back to him and settling into his arms or he in Jongin’s.

Going home to a suffocating ocean of blue and memory is something which brings an even heavier weight than the work of today. Having Jongin gone is one thing, seeing Jongin with another as he is forcibly reminded of him all day is a separate pain entirely. Joonmyun feels heavy under the weight of everything that seems to come at once from all sides. There is no staggering, just the immediate succession of bad to worse.

“What are you doing after work?” Kyungsoo asks, picking up the folder and pausing before he leaves. Joonmyun looks up, slightly surprised at the tentative tone in Kyungsoo’s voice.

There initial thought was to go home, grab a quick dinner and turn in early. Lie amid sheets and ignore the vacant space beside him. Walk in semi darkness to shroud the many pictures of smiling faces in photographs that are all memories of a happier time. “Nothing,” Joonmyun answers.

“Do you want to grab dinner and a drink?” Kyungsoo suggests, frowning slightly as he shifts his weight.

Joonmyun almost says no. Almost. But Kyungsoo isn’t usually one to ask, instead telling Joonmyun flat out and dragging him out for whatever it is or leave work without a word. If it had been anyone else, Jongdae stopping by and asking with a hopeful smile, Kyuhyun or Donghae, Joonmyun might say no. But Kyungsoo is asking, and somehow that’s different.

Kyungsoo is one of the few people who knows, who can sit through a dinner with Joonmyun and not bring up Jongin, instead talking about anything else, work, home, food, anything. And it feels polite, respectful, and claustrophobic. Joonmyun doesn’t necessarily want to talk about Jongin, but the clawing as his mind turns over the weekend, the gallery before the movies and the violent admission of everything to someone he barely knows biting at him. He jumps half way through dinner as his phone goes off, vibrating against the table and Joonmyun quickly picks it up.

“Hello?” he answers as Kyungsoo watches him curiously over the table.

“What are you doing?”

Joonmyun saw Baekhyun yesterday. Joonmyun isn’t used to his new friends calling him in the evenings, instead pestering him before hand and checking if he’s busy. “I’m out,” Joonmyun answers, not really thinking about giving a false answer. “I’m at dinner with a friend.”

“And you didn’t include me, I’m insulted,” Baekhyun says and Joonmyun can’t help the small spark of amusement. Baekhyun’s tone is haughty but he can feel the tease.

“He’s a very close friend,” Joonmyun says as Kyungsoo gives him skeptical look, as if he doesn’t nearly consider them to be as close as Joonmyun is possibly implying. “Why?”

“I’m bored,” Baekhyun says with a dramatic sigh. “Where are you?”

In so many other cases, Joonmyun would have hung up, told Baekhyun no, ended the call and gone back to dinner and ignored him. Told him they can see each other another time, tonight is inconvenient, and he’s sorry. Instead he looks to Kyungsoo, covering the mouth of the phone with a hand and asking, “Would you mind if a friend of mine joined us?”

“You have other friends?” Kyungsoo asks looking mockingly interested before taking a sip of wine. “I’m astounded.” The sarcasm that Kyungsoo spins to him does not go appreciated.

It isn’t until Baekhyun is arriving, shrugging off his too large jacket and flashing a smile at Kyungsoo that Joonmyun realizes that this is the first time he’s brought in a new person to his small knit group of friends in a very long time. It’s been a very long time since Joonmyun has really brought a new friend into his life in a very long time as well. Kyungsoo looks at him in mild curiosity as Baekhyun sits down, waving off the waiter and simply ordering a drink.

“I ate earlier,” Baekhyun says, settling back into his chair and smiling, something he seems to do perpetually.

“Are you sure you don’t want something to eat?” Joonmyun asks, the notion automatic.

“If I’m hungry, I can figure something out,” Baekhyun tells him, fiddling with his silverware and Kyungsoo’s eyebrows raise. He turns to Kyungsoo and sits back again, tilting his head to the side in obvious interest. “So how do you know Joonmyun?”

It’s odd, but even if Kyungsoo has just met Baekhyun, they end up chatting almost instantly, Kyungsoo getting a slight smile on his face as Baekhyun talks, the dry humor and comments that Joonmyun usually ignores being turned around by Baekhyun. Joonmyun finds himself smiling, watching the two of them talk and barely realizing he’s been roped into the conversation too.

“I didn’t know you were going to Hong Kong,” Baekhyun says, poking his hand with the butt of his knife gently, as if in punishment for withholding information. “When was this going to come up?”

“It’s for business,” Joonmyun tells him, the reminder of the trip twisting the conversation into a sour edge, his thoughts slipping to Jongin once again and the absence of the other on the trip. “Three days doing meetings and planning.” Originally a vacation mixed in but no longer.

“Sounds exhausting,” Baekhyun comments. It’s not the typical hum and nod of appreciation and understanding and Kyungsoo ends up laughing.

“You have no idea,” the secretary says, smiling as he looks at the other two at the table. “Getting through the preparation for it is like digging through a swamp.”

“I think a swamp might be less enjoyable,” Baekhyun says, nose crinkling. “All that muck and smell, not to mention the frogs.” Kyungsoo nods, taking another sip of wine. “I’d definitely choose Hong Kong over swamp wading.”

“Wise man,” Kyungsoo says, his eyes flashing to Joonmyun as Baekhyun launches into discussion of airline safety and asking them how they’re traveling. He ends up lecturing Joonmyun about proper safety and telling him he shouldn’t sit at an emergency exit. When Joonmyun asks why, Baekhyun just shrugs and looks pointedly at him.

“He means you’re short,” Kyungsoo tells him with an amused smirk.

“Yes, thank you,” Joonmyun snaps, frowning at both of them. “Not like either of you are ones to talk.”

“I’ve accepted myself,” Baekhyun says with a cocky grin. “You should learn to do the same.”

“Where did you find him?” Kyungsoo asks later as Baekhyun excuses himself briefly to the bathroom. He’s smiling in amusement as he eyes Joonmyun.

“I didn’t find him,” Joonmyun corrects, almost rolling his eyes at the other man. _He found me_ is nearly out of his mouth before he catches himself. Kyungsoo watches him closely for a moment, his eyes flickering as they take in the slight drop of expression on Joonmyun’s face.

“Does he know about Jongin?” Kyungsoo asks, hands folded neatly on the table before him.

It’s not the first time Joonmyun doesn’t want to meet Kyungsoo’s eyes. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last. Kyungsoo has the ability to take someone apart by looking at them. And Joonmyun isn’t strong enough with his feelings still lingering on edge, the distraction of Baekhyun only lasting for moments before his thoughts stray. “He knows enough,” he says instead of a full answer and only looks up when Baekhyun slides back into his seat, breaking the silence almost immediately.

Baekhyun doesn’t know everything about Jongin, but that’s probably best. Joonmyun still doesn’t know Baekhyun all that well, and to know that Joonmyun is still holding onto his Jongin to the point that his apartment hasn’t been touched, that the trip to Hong Kong is going so slowly because Joonmyun can’t let go. Baekhyun doesn’t need to know that Joonmyun will go back home to pictures lining his shelves that hurt to look at and step back into a hope he can’t let go.

Kyungsoo watches him in between the conversations and rambling topics as Baekhyun pulls him in and out of talking. Joonmyun ignores it, preferring instead to argue with Baekhyun about the practicality of attempting to explore Hong Kong as well as do business while there. Joonmyun says no, mind on what he and Jongin might have done together, while Baekhyun calls him boring. Kyungsoo says nothing as his eyes flicker between them.

-

It’s just checking up, at least that’s what Joonmyun tells himself as he waits, the first afternoon taken off legitimately since he last followed Jongin. He’s not entirely proud of it, what with the growing preparations for Hong Kong and the increase of paperwork, but he can’t rid himself of the nagging worry and feeling that hasn’t left him since Saturday.

Today, Jongin doesn’t go home after work. Today Jongin waits outside, scuffing his shoes against the asphalt of the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, and frowning at the ground. Today, Jongin doesn't look around and see him, not that he ever has. Jongin is wearing a light jacket, jeans Joonmyun doesn’t recognize, and his hair is soft about his face, bangs brushing over his eyes and he looks so innocent, so vulnerable, so easy for someone to snatch up. He looks bored as he glances around, looking to his watch and sighing before a sound catches his attention and both he and Joonmyun turn to look down the street. A tall figure is running, waving to Jongin as he approaches and Jongin’s face breaks into a smile just as Joonmyun’s heart breaks seeing it.

Jongin smiling genuinely is the most beautiful thing in the world. The warmth and sincerity behind it holds the ability to brighten any moment of sadness. Seeing Jongin smile so openly, without even the slightest bit of hesitation, his eyes crinkling in happiness, is like a stab to the chest as Joonmyun watches him. The other man, the same as the one the other night, finally reaches him, huffing and puffing, hands on his knees as he catches his breath, looking up at Jongin with a smile of his own.

They speak, a few words passed between before Jongin laughs, stepping back and the other man stands up fully. For a moment, it looks like Jongin will pull away, then an arm reaches out and Jongin shifts into a side that isn’t Joonmyun’s.

Joonmyun has never experienced inexplicable hatred before. Never before in his life has he felt an instant and irrational dislike of another person. It doesn’t seem natural to find hate someone without even knowing them, without a legitimate reason, or without even having had a conversation before. He has never feel so violently angry with another person before and never thought he would. However, sitting at the window of a coffee shop, his own drink forgotten in his hands, Joonmyun hates the man sitting across the street, laughing too loud and looking too happy as he looks and only looks at Jongin. He hates him with a burn and an ache in his bones as he watches him talk and gesture and try to give Jongin bites of the ice cream they’re sharing. He hates him as Jongin leans back and pushes away the offered spoon but doesn’t look annoyed, just looks amused.

He’s never met this man before in his life, has only seen him and Jongin together, but Joonmyun can’t see past the soft but genuine smile on Jongin’s lips as he looks at him. He can’t move past how this man can reach across the table and curl his fingers with Jongin’s so easily, pull that hand to his lips and press a kiss to knuckles that makes cheeks blush. He smiles with brilliance and laughs without shame and sits and steps and stands too close and every part of him screams against Joonmyun’s mind.

Joonmyun hates him, and seeing as Joonmyun rarely hates anyone, it cannot sit well with him having Jongin near him. There has to be something that isn’t right about this. No one is that blatant, that shameless, and that open in public. Joonmyun doesn’t trust him, doesn’t know him and the way he acts grates against Joonmyun’s idea of appropriate behavior and he just doesn’t like him. He can’t do anything, can’t approach Jongin or the other man; that would just mess things up. He’s already been pushed away when trying to reconnect with Jongin and doing so again would just further cause problems.

But Joonmyun can’t sit by and do nothing. He can’t sit by and watch as Jongin steps closer and closer to something that Joonmyun is slowly convincing himself will only end in pain. It has to end in pain because they alternative hurts to think of. That this man, who is loud and too expressive and who doesn’t look nearly as successful as Joonmyun, was chosen over him.

Joonmyun has heard of other people doing it before, mostly rare cases but he knows it happens outside of just movies and television. It doesn’t seem honorable, nor healthy, but neither is following Jongin and his new companion at all times. Joonmyun can’t do it himself, watching and learning about this new man. It hurts too much and he can’t guarantee himself he won’t lash out. Jongin was his, is his and he still can't let go.

It takes a lot of time and a lot of things Joonmyun isn’t familiar with, hours taken longer at work as he both works through business details and ignores the time he used to spend in a car watching through windows. He busies his mind with other things, other research which is in far different categories than he usually chooses. Ignoring phone calls and brushing off Kyungsoo, earning a small raised look as he stays late for yet another day, Joonmyun frowns at the list of names and numbers on his computer screen.

“You’re working hard,” Kyungsoo says on Thursday and Joonmyun shakes his head agitatedly.

“I’m trying to make sure we have all the details down for Hong Kong.” It’s a lie, a very nasty one especially since his mind has wandered every time he thinks about the trip to how he and Jongin would have been going together. How they were supposed to go together and how they _should_ still be going together. He shakes the thought from his mind every time, trying to focus on business and the smiling face of a man he doesn’t know appears instead.

“Don’t stay too late,” Kyungsoo tells him with a pointed look as he adjusts his shoulder bag. “I don’t want you dying on me or something.”

Joonmyun lets out a small laugh, looking up at Kyungsoo and tying to smile at him reassuringly. “I’m not going to die on you.”

The look Kyungsoo gives him is both serious and oddly concerned, as if he wants to trust Joonmyun, but doesn’t entirely. He says nothing though, giving a small sigh as he steps from the office and lets the door close behind him.

At nine, Joonmyun finally leaves, the time familiar with what he used to leave countless times before when he would come home to Jongin already changed from work and possibly dozing on the couch. At nine thirty he’s sitting and watching through the tinted windows of his car as he watches Jongin walk from his building with the tall stranger that incites a flare of anger in his chest. Jongin smiles and Joonmyun’s fingers tighten around the small card between his fingers.

A small part, the last lingering fragment of him, holds on, waits and grips with brittle fingers. Because maybe this isn’t romance, this is just Joonmyun judging and overthinking and Jongin didn’t leave him for this. But then it shatters, anger coursing through him and his resolve breaks as the man leans forward, too close, much too close and Jongin doesn’t pull away. Jongin leans up and his hand slips into one larger.

It’s too much and Joonmyun can’t tolerate it. He doesn’t know him, he has never met him, and he hates him. He can’t just let it go, not when Jongin might shatter and break from this. It digs into him, as he can’t pull away, can’t leave and sits, watching as his heart smiles at another and holds a hand that isn’t his own. Jongin laughs and smiles and looks happy, falling just a bit further away and Joonmyun hates how he can see it, how he can see the other going over the top. A man who wears jeans and jackets and tee shirts and has hastily styled hair and sneakers.

Joonmyun doesn’t know how long he sits, turning the card over in his hands, the name flashing at him before the stiff paper flips over again and his phone rests heavy in his hand. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since Jongin and the other man vanished into the night, fingers twined and Joonmyun feeling sick.

The gentle smile of a mouth he’s loved and still does, turned to another man that incites hate. Fingers twined together and Joonmyun’s jaw clenches as his phone flips to the number screen and his fingers type in a number purposefully.

Sitting back in the front seat of the car, he watches as the street light flickers on, flashing light on and off around him. He’s not proud, this isn’t something people do every day, calling up someone, a stranger, to learn about another stranger. Joonmyun realizes with a painful twist that he doesn’t even know the man’s name; the one who Jongin goes to now, the one who he knows nothing about. But he doesn’t have to be proud of it; he can accept that.

Jongin never has to know.

The line picks up and Joonmyun takes a breath.

-

_‘What are you doing tomorrow?’_ flashes across the phone, the message lighting up the phone and Joonmyun glances at it, pausing as he is distracted from morning reports. He pausing, eyes lingering on the message the name flashing over the screen. He should be working, should be looking over more details and reports. He should be calling Lu Han and asking him if he finished organizing the schedule and confirmed the meeting times, locked them into place. Instead, he’s pausing and watching as the message fades on his phone, replaced with black and stillness.

It’s been a bit of an intense week, moving from a Monday where everything seemed to disintegrate after nine in the morning to afternoons taken off early and an evening he’s blocking out with paper work and filing, Joonmyun is tired. The end of the week can’t come fast enough. A part of him wants to pick up his phone, open the message and type back, finally give in to the constant pestering. They’re friends after all and he should treat the other as such.

The report on his desk sits expectantly and Joonmyun ends up picking it up instead. The message can wait. Thus it is that he sighs, looking at his phone with a frown as the device vibrates again in insistent reminder of the message on the other end. Joonmyun knows Jongdae means well, that he’s concerned as Joonmyun has been avoiding him and the others and the vast majority of social interaction. But at the same time, Joonmyun just feels tired thinking about talking with him, trying to skate around the details of why he’s been avoiding him, a topic which will surely come up.

Joonmyun sighs anyway, swiping the key code for his phone as the messages he’s been avoiding for too long flash over the screen. He sighs, seeing the large number sitting beside Jongdae’s name, unanswered or replied to with simple replies. He should feel guilty, but instead he just feels tired. The list below is far smaller, though Joonmyun’s eyes linger on it, the short messages and random texts smoothing some of the lines around his face. They’re not significant, nothing specifically heart warming, but somehow the distraction the brought with each seems to bring some ease to the constant strain.

It’s a distraction, but not one that is negative and has his nerves grating as they flip over scenarios and looks exchanged which make him wince. Even if half of the interactions are littered with bantering and insults, it still makes him pause as he looks at his phone.

“What are you doing?” Joonmyun jerks from his thoughts, looking up into the frowning face of his personal assistant as he holds a new stack of papers. Kyungsoo’s eyes flicker over his face rapidly, as if searching for something.

“Nothing,” Joonmyun says, quickly putting his phone aside, sliding it among documents and papers. “What is it?” Joonmyun asks, shaking himself looking up at Kyungsoo, smiling.

Kyungsoo blinks. “I haven’t seen that in a while,” he says, handing Joonmyun his papers, just like he does every day. Joonmyun frowns in confusion. Kyungsoo lets out a small sniff of an amused laugh. “You smile,” he explains, setting the usual coffee on the desk. “It’s been a while since I actually saw you smile aside from when you’re in business deals.” He pauses as he steps back, head tilted, quizzical. “What happened?”

An entire month of fake smiles that were dropped almost as fast as they were brought into life, hiding behind a façade of acceptability and Kyungsoo stands and stares at him, saying this is the first time he’s smiled in over thirty days. Thirty days is a long time; a long time of not smiling. It’s a wonder that his muscles remember how.

Shaking himself, Joonmyun looks down at his desk and presses his lips together, squinting at the unfamiliar mix in his chest of the typical numbing sadness and confusion. “Nothing,” he says, pulling the files towards himself and flipping them open, looking over them with a serious crease between his brows. “Nothing happened,” he says quietly, not looking up as he senses Kyungsoo watching him, waiting, before finally with a sigh he leaves.

Work is a dull process of the same monotonous precision and procedure. Read and write reports, business calls, business meetings, conferences and reviewing proposals. Joonmyun goes through all of it the same as he usually does, lips pressed to a line and quickly, efficiently. His office is huge, the size of most people’s living rooms and Joonmyun sits at a large desk, windows overlooking the city half shielded in industrial curtains, the long table before him intended for company meetings and negotiations by business partners.

It’s all very practical, very clinical, very organized and specific and the quiet of the room settles like a drone. There isn’t as much to do today, the work stopping and Joonmyun, for the first time in a long time, looks at a day that won’t run through lunch.

Typically, on these days, Joonmyun will pick up an extra piece of work, something that can get done or needs to get done. Work that will get completed regardless of whether he takes it on or not, expanding the company and providing further work opportunities or growth. But today, sitting and finding all the necessary files and paperwork Kyungsoo had dropped off earlier completed and in neat piles, Joonmyun simply sits back.

On days like today it would be the rare time Joonmyun could go home early, or on time at least, when the rest of the company leaves the building and returns to their own homes, their own worlds, and he to his. It seems so strange, frowning as his fingers press together and steeple against his lips, how so many days like today ended up pushed further, Joonmyun staying far longer than the others and pouring away, a brief phone call and an apology.

The clock on the wall reads half past noon as there is a soft knock resounding through the spacious office, echoing off walls with clinical paintings of black and white. Joonmyun calls absently, granting entry and a moment later a familiar smiling face is poking through a gap in the door. “Are you busy?”

It’s the first time in a long time that Joonmyun can say no, can smile in return at his friend and stand up. It’s the first time in a long time that Joonmyun doesn’t immediately decline, thinking instead of other things he could be doing, other projects he could be starting. There is the Hong Kong trip that he can always continue to work on, pouring over details and fixing details better left for Lu Han. Instead, he looks back to the open hopeful look on Jongdae’s face and says “No, actually.” He smiles. “I’m not.”

It’s one of the first times that he’s actually said yes to Jongdae’s many inquiries, including this morning. Joonmyun almost feels guilty and the relieved and happy smile that stretches over his friend’s face.

Once, many years ago when Joonmyun was still working to the top, fighting through layers of business hierarchy and status ladders, he and some of the few people at work he did consider friends had started a tradition. Every day, regardless of how ragged and slammed with work they were, they met, poked heads into cubicles, and dragged each other away. A lunch, being anything at all, was always demanded and done together. They became a team, always going to lunch, possibly dinner, dropping off extra coffees and laughing as they went out for drinks later.

But that was before, when Joonmyun wasn’t a CEO and wasn’t disconnected, cut off in his own work bubble and a relationship. That was before, when Joonmyun hadn’t declined the ever-positive look Jongdae would shoot him or the indifferent gaze of Kyungsoo. And today, it feels strange, sitting down as Jongdae grins widely, scooting over as Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow and Lu Han nearly drops his fork in surprise.

“Joonmyun?”

Letting out a small slightly bitter chuckle, Joonmyun sits down and looks at his director. “Last I checked that was my name.”

There is a short silence in which Kyuhyun, and Donghae all stare at him in surprise while Jongdae grins around at everyone and Kyungsoo just goes back to his soup. “Well,” Donghae finally says, face cracking into a brilliant smile as he claps a hand on Joonmyun’s shoulder. “It’s about time. We’ve been missing your thrilling commentary on these luncheons.” Kyungsoo scoffs into his soup.

It’s strange, sitting down and eating together all once again, Jongdae and Kyuhyun mostly dominating the conversation with typical banter as Jongdae occasionally drags Joonmyun in. But it is also nice, to sit once again with the people he does consider his friends, the people he knew and who liked him before his name came with a price tag attached. They are all genuine, to a relative degree, hard working and people who he, if he admits it to himself, has missed. He even missed Lu Han, even if the other man has a nasty ability to laugh blatantly at him before saying in what may be a joke or not that he’s going to take over the company one day.

“So what’s new?” Donghae asks finally, swirling his straw in his drink absently. “We haven’t seen you in a long time. Almost thought you’d forgotten about us.”

“Not everyone has a memory like yours,” Kyunhyun says, grinning as Donghae looks at him with a small draw to his brows. His eyes flash to Joonmyun’s. “But really, what happened to you? You vanished for over a month. And whenever we did see you, you-“

“I’ve been busy,” Joonmyun says, suddenly wishing he hadn't agreed with Jongdae to come to lunch. He doesn’t want to talk about this. He doesn’t want to talk about why he’s been either locked in the office or completely absent. To talk about why he’s been avoiding work or only interacting with business matters and dealing with Kyungsoo and Lu Han when needed. Why he’s been assuring Jongdae he’s fine as the other drops by from the outsourcing department and asks how he is.

Kyuhyun laughs, the sound odd against Joonmyun’s ears as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Across from him, Kyungsoo has stopped eating, looking at him from over his food with a small frown. “But you’re always busy.” The comment jars into Joonmyun unpleasantly. “You literally went completely missing. It was like we had a phantom sitting up in that office.”

It's ironic. For if anything to describe himself over the past month, a ghost seems the most fitting. He’s been existing as a shell of a person, incomplete and hollow, the gap where another fit leaving him broken and lacking. Joonmyun tries to laugh, the sound seeming artificial on his ears as he shakes his head and tries to find words frantically to fill the space hanging over the table. 

He doesn’t find anything.

Joonmyun is familiar with awkward silences, has experienced them in his life many times as a matter of fact and the current span of silence hanging over the table before him is exactly that; awkward. Jongdae’s smile beside him is slipping slightly, his eyes shifting into worry. “Joonmyun?” he asks as the CEO shakes his head, laugh fading into awkward chuckles as he looks back at his half eaten lunch.

“Just the usual,” he tries, waving a hand as if that will dispel the atmosphere that has seemed to settle over the table. Donghae is eyeing him as well now, Kyuhyun’s smile slipping as he studies Joonmyun, finally looking him over intently.

Lunch was perhaps not the best idea.

Kyuhyun coughs, throat clearing and it’s still awkward. Jongdae shifts beside him, angling himself towards Joonmyun and shakes himself, throwing on an easy smile. “How’s Jongin?”

Lunch was definitely not a good idea.

Joonmyun tries to smile, tries to meet Jongdae’s eyes. He ends up staring at the bridge of his nose, his mouth hurting at much as the renewed pain in his throat as he forces a smile on his lips. He’s fine, he’s okay, he’s having a normal lunch with his friends like normal people do.

“He’s-“ the words choke in his throat and Joonmyun has to look away, ducking as he feels himself slipping, losing control as Jongdae’s face falls and no, he’s not ready for this. He lets out a sound and can’t figure out if it’s a laugh or a dry painful sob. His mouth opens as if to finish the sentence but nothing comes out and Joonmyun can’t do this.

“Joonmyun?” The soft lay of a hand on his shoulder has Joonmyun jerking away, a horrible laugh erupting from his throat as he shakes his head and ducks away.

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head, smiling and hating it as he looks at the table, all eyes on him. Joonmyun can’t do this, not here. “We broke up.”

The food from lunch turns in Joonmyun’s stomach angrily, as if an incessant remind of how empty the rest of him is. He’s eaten half of his lunch. Half. Not whole. One part missing and searching for the other and broken until it is fixed again with the proper match.

The table is silent, all eyes fixed on Joonmyun as his own eyes fix on the half consumed salad, dressing smeared over greens, before him and has never felt less hungry in his life. “Joonmyun,” Jongdae says softly beside him and Joonmyun just shakes his head, sighing and looking up, biting back the sickening bubble in his throat. Jongdae’s eyes flicker over his face swiftly before he’s opening his mouth and saying “Well, too bad for him. I’m glad you broke it off. You deserve better and I hope he knows what he lost when you let him go” and Joonmyun wants to shove his words back into his mouth.

But even the act of clarifying, telling Jongdae that he didn’t break up with Jongin, that it was the other way around and Jongin left him and walked away from him, not once, but twice, he doesn’t have the strength for. That Jongin isn’t the one who is suffering from being left and reconsidering and analyzing everything over and over until his head hurts. That Joonmyun is the one that can’t stop his mind from straying to the other man without realizing it and hurting within seconds. There is no recovery period, there is only the agony of being alone and waiting for Jongin to come back.

The laugh that he gives is weak, brittle on the air and Jongdae’s face falls further, the previous ‘cheer up’ countenance slipping as he takes in Joonmyun. He doesn’t understand, doesn’t know, and Joonmyun can’t tell him. “Yeah,” he ends up saying, voice already tight and choked. “Me too,” he says and it breaks. The last resistance, the last hold breaks and he ducks his head, quickly standing from the table as he feels himself begin to fall apart. “Excuse me,” he says, throwing out a horribly twisted pained smile as he drops his card on the table. “Lunch is on me.”

Kyungsoo will make sure to return his card to him after lunch, taking care of the finances and the debts. In the past, it had been a free-for-all, everyone throwing their cards onto the table and selecting one at random before the total was paid. It kept them all equal, before paychecks changed and it was just easier to put his card down and avoid the bickering between Kyungsoo and Kyuhyun over ornate appetizers.

As the doors to the elevator being to close, they’re stopped, halted and Joonmyun presses his hand to his mouth, eyes closing as he leans against the wall and blocks out whoever is stepping in beside him. “You really do look hideous when you cry,” Kyungsoo says calmly, shoving a plastic card into his hand and pressing the doors closed. Wordlessly, Joonmyun takes the card, pocketing it as unrestricted sobs pour from him.

At three am on Sunday, Joonmyun had thought for a moment that he had been through, done with crying after three hours of sobbing through romantic comedies and popcorn. It seems he was wrong as he breaks down, sobbing and furiously wiping at his face as Kyungsoo watches him with an almost bored expression. “I clarified,” he says and Joonmyun doesn’t want to hear it. “Just in case you weren’t going to.”

Telling people, speaking the fact and letting others close and who know him, know Jongin, and know their relationship, is like making it real. It’s been over a month, and it still hasn’t been real, the prospect and hope that maybe, just maybe, Jongin will suddenly be there and apologize. And Joonmyun would forgive him, smiling and pulling him close and Jongin would sigh, having missed him. Even with the reality of what he has been witness to this week as he skirts immediate tasks and drags back into denial. He’s not proud of it, and hoped to step away, having given some of the burden to a hired stranger, but it’s still there. And now it’s staring him in the face.

Other people didn’t need to know. What point would there be in telling them when Jongin could potentially come back? Even the smallest chance that Jongin might return so why raise cause for concern? “You didn’t have to do that,” Joonmyun says thickly, wiping furiously at his eyes. Lunch was clearly a very bad decision.

“You’re just going to worry them more,” Kyungsoo says, not looking at Joonmyun as they travel up the floors of the building, the divisions and working levels flashing past the planning floors and a sea of cubicles. “The more you cut them out, the more they’ll worry. They were going to find out sooner or later that Jongin left.”

Stop.

Face buried in his hands, Joonmyun hides himself, the sobs that wrack through him as what he thought was over is not. It’s still there, still raw, a month of misery compounding into a second. Where Jongin is still not back, instead walking from him again, pushing him away and refusing, returning instead to the arms of a stranger.

“Is there something wrong with me?” Joonmyun gasps, turning to look at Kyungsoo, whose form is fuzzy around the edges, the tears hazing Joonmyun’s vision. “Is there something so bad that he had to leave and find it in someone else?”

“Someone else?” Kyungsoo is frowning at him, brows digging down at the new information. “What-“

“What is it that he has that I don’t have?” Joonmyun isn’t paying attention, instead his eyes looking unfocused to the doors of the elevator as tears continue to pour unchecked down his face. They burn, his skin itching as his throat rasps over the words, raw and aching with pain that extends into his chest to his heart and spreads through him like a disease. “What makes him so special that it’s barely a month and I’m- I’m” _Replaced._

A horrible gurgling and shattered sob seems hollow in the elevator as Kyungsoo stares at the man beside him, face stained in misery and letting out a mix between sobs and gasping breaths. The floors climb higher, twenty-sic, twenty-seven, twenty-eitght, and Kyungsoo is sighing, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket and shoving it at Joonmyun. “Clean yourself up,” he says, pushing the soft fabric into his hands. “You look horrible.”

“I feel horrible,” Joonmyun mumbles miserably, frantically wiping his face even as new tears spill down and even if his face is drying, the dam has been broken. He’s still broken, still abandoned.

“Well,” Kyungsoo says, tone slightly softer. “It fits then.” Joonmyun looks up at him and sees a small smile on Kyungsoo’s face as a hand settles over his shoulder. He lets out a small laugh, neither happy but not entirely sad as he wipes at his face.

“Why.” It’s not a question specifically directed at the secretary before him but more of just something he has been wondering and trying to figure and still can’t work through. He can’t get past it because even if Jongin, face hurt and angry and tone cold and distant had told him vague reasons, it still doesn’t make sense.

“I can’t answer that,” says Kyungsoo, moving to take the handkerchief before pausing. “On second thought, you clean that.” Joonmyun sniffs. “Or keep it. Yeah, you know what you keep it.” His hand squeezes Joonmyun’s shoulder gently, as if trying to transmit that he cares, is trying to support him even if he doesn’t do so like others might.

“Do you need anything?” Kyungsoo asks as he steps inside the door of Joonmyun’s office, watching the CEO carefully as he walks to his desk and sits down, fingers dragging at his eyes and wiping at tears that still fall. Perhaps he’s not sobbing anymore, but it’s still raw, the horrible silence following his admission at lunch as the eyes of those he considers his close friends all stared at him in shock. It’s still painful as he thinks over how he hadn’t left Jongin, instead Jongin leaving him and-

“Nothing,” Joonmyun says, voice firmer than he thinks it could be as he sits down in his desk.

Emotions are funny things. They come and go so quickly often times it isn’t really possible to trace them, figure out where they stem from or even why they happen. But they are considered what makes humans to be human, something considered to be lacking distinctly in any other animal on the planet. Humans feel, people feel, people hurt and feel joy and sadness and anger and fear and all things with far more intensity than any other animal. The primal fight or flight mechanism expanding into a myriad of feelings which all come and go and mix together and still manage to baffle scientists.

The change over from sadness, piteous misery to irritation, tightness in his fingers and lips as anger sparks is abrupt, unplanned and roils through Joonmyun in shocking swiftness. Joonmyun is rarely truly angry. Rarely, but occasionally he is.

Joonmyun does need something. He needs to know why.

The card from the other night, half crumped stills sits in his pocket, the number called and the deed done. An invasion of privacy, a violation of respect and distance and personal space, but Joonmyun can’t bring himself to correct it. He sighs, dragging a hand over his face and pressing his fingertips into his eyes, mind reeling as he tries to organize himself into sense. He still has the second half of a workday to get through before he can leave and give in to the chaos that has become his ordered thoughts.

Just as he’s opening up the second set of files, Joonmyun’s phone rings. At first, he jumps reaching for the sleek smooth handle of the business phone before he realizes it’s his cell phone, the screen lighting up as it hides under a stack of completely reports. It is exactly as he had left it before, when hastily pushed away upon being interrupted earlier.

“What’s up?”

Joonmyun frowns slightly, his eyes fixed on the Excel document opened on his monitor detailing the profits and sales from the past month as he puts his phone to his ear. “I’m at work,” he says, tone blank. He clears his throat, as if this will emphasize his point.

“Cool,” Baekhyun says, and there is the sound of music in the background. “So am I.” Joonmyun looks down the sales column from the first week of the month. “What are you up to this weekend?” They were quite good during the first week, actually making a significant profit. They had a commission from a wedding party and those typically pay extremely well for the design division.

“I-“ Weekends are for relaxing and staying in, spending time resting. Weekends are for looking over bits of extra work he’s taken home from the office while sometimes going out for dinner or staying in for a quiet evening with Jongin.

Weekends are empty. 

“Want to get lunch or something?” Joonmyun often doesn't make plans for lunch.

“I don’t-“

“The weather looks really nice, all sun and warm weather so doing stuff outside is definitely possible. Unless you want to preserve your vampiric complexion.” Joonmyun looks at the second week of sales. He should be frowning, scowling at the slight but instead his mouth just settles. He’s tired, the weight from this week settling on his shoulders.

Too tired to really say anything but- “What time?”

Joonmyun isn’t entirely sure what he’s doing when he stands on the sidewalk, hands tucked into his pockets and looking around the people passing by on the street, most of them walking past and barely sparing him a glance. He hasn’t slept well the past few days approaching the weekend, mind preoccupied with the space beside him that remains empty and the images of his friends all looking at him in sympathy.

Is has been a long time since Joonmyun slept on his side, curving away from the bed and the extra space that for so long never seemed so large. But lately that seems to be the only way he can sleep. His back hurts slightly, the shifted angle uncomfortable but it blocks out the stretch of unoccupied space that keeps him awake. He’d been out the previous nights, Jongdae and Kyuhyun both calling and asking if he was busy before Jongdae was wrapping to his side and dragging him out to dinner. He knows they’re both trying to help, trying to push aside his thoughts and distract him.

This is what normal people do. They distract themselves from that which hurts until it fades to nothing. They occupy themselves and work through their pain and push it down until it is gone, filling their lives with socialization, going out and meeting new people, getting new numbers and exchanging flirtatious smiles. Joonmyun considers that, as far as normal standards go, he doesn’t quite fit the description.

They are trying to help; Jongdae and Kyuhyun and even Donghae who had knocked his way into his office at the end of the day and suggested a few bars he frequents before Joonmyun had quietly shaken his head. Their intentions are good, trying to help him, be supportive and kind and move him through this. Joonmyun wishes they wouldn't.

This isn't particularly because he dislikes the kindness and the concern his friends are showing, but more because it is doing exactly the thing he wanted to avoid. It’s as if, now his friends are aware of Jongin leaving him, Joonmyun is expected to move on, to recover and put himself back together and forget about Jongin. To let go of a relationship he had for over two years and never expected to end so soon. To let go of Jongin and think that he will never return, that Jongin is as good as dead in his life. He won’t return.

And Joonmyun can’t do that. He can’t push Jongin away from his mind and thoughts and life just like that. He’s everywhere, in the bathroom large enough for two people, the curtains Joonmyun bought with Jongin in mind, light blocking and heavy as Jongin loves to sleep in. He’s everywhere, the photographs on display in the house and on the walls. He’s in the applications on his phone, in the front seat of his car, the radio stations cued to his favorites, and in the missing pair of shoes inside the door. He’s in Joonmyun’s hairstyle, the burn scar across his knuckle from one of their first attempts to cook dinner together.

Joonmyun can’t let him go, because Jongin still holds so much of him if he lets go, he’s also letting go of himself.

“Are you always punctual?” startles Joonmyun from his thoughts and he looks up. Baekhyun is wearing sunglasses, and at first Joonmyun doesn’t realize it’s him, the baseball cap backwards on his head and a simple tee shirt blending him into the crowd. “How long were you waiting?”

Joonmyun feels overly dressed, his collared shirt and slacks seeming strange beside Baekhyun’s casual attire. “Not long,” he says, absently straightening his collar, fingers running along the crisp line of fabric. “What did you want to do today?”

Baekhyun flashes him a smile, shaking his bangs from his face slightly as he shifts stance. “It’s up to you today,” he says posture relaxing. Joonmyun hasn’t planned this, hasn’t thought about this, and Baekhyun’s nonchalance is a little offsetting for Joonmyun who is more accustomed to set dates and reservations.

“I didn’t plan anything,” Joonmyun admits, frowning slightly as Baekhyun’s nose scrunches up and he looks around.

“Good,” is not entirely the answer Joonmyun had expected. But Baekhyun is smiling at him like there is nothing more interesting to him at the moment than watching Joonmyun attempt to make a spur of the moment decision. Joonmyun is calculated action and precision and planning.

Baekhyun is…

“What do you usually like to do?” Baekhyun asks and Joonmyun’s mouth twists slightly at the comment. “When you are out,” Baekhyun elaborates. “With friends or on-“ he stops himself and coughs. “What do you like to do?” He stands, watching Joonmyun and smiling faintly, eyes hidden behind the frames of his sunglasses.

Joonmyun is not a complicated person. He like simplistic things, designs, methods and routines, he never asks for much and is pleased by easier things. Joonmyun likes small breakfasts and the same coffee every day. He likes going out to eat, watching a play, reading a book in the evenings and watching a movie quietly. Some people are those who need constant activity. People like Lu Han who throws himself into activity and has a social life that gives Joonmyun a headache. People like Donghae who runs around and makes new friends and is always into something new and interesting.

Joonmyun is not one of those people.

He isn’t sure what kind of person Baekhyun is. “Lunch?” Joonmyun offers, a hopeful and testing expression on his face and in his voice.

“That’s usually a good place to start,” Baekhyun says with a slow nod. “Where do you want to eat?”

Today, it seems Baekhyun is all questions, poking repeatedly at Joonmyun for small tidbits and leading decisive comments and air. He smiles, occasionally pulling down his sunglasses to look at Joonmyun unhindered by the tinted lenses and keeps pushing his hair back from his face. He doesn’t question lunch (a small bistro restaurant that Joonmyun ends up selecting after recognizing it) though he does question the menu.

“What is this?”

In some cases, ignorance about fine food would be judged, seen as a reflection of being uncultured and ignorant. But as Baekhyun frowns at his menu and actually turns it sideways, Joonmyun thanks that perhaps it’s relative in this case to a lack of exposure. Joonmyun simply smiles, explaining easily was the dish is before leaning back as Baekhyun stares at the menu again and still doesn’t entirely seem to comprehend.

“Why don’t you just order and I’ll trust you,” Baekhyun finally suggests, tongue running along his lips as he fiddles with his sunglasses. “I trust you not to kill me.”

“Are you allergic to anything?” Joonmyun asks almost automatically, musing still over his menu as his eyes skim over the choices.

“Arsenic,” is the immediate answer and Joonmyun starts to a halt as he looks swiftly up at Baekhun. Baekhyun is grinning at him, teeth flashing in amusement.

“I’ll take that as a no then,” Joonmyun says, giving a small derisive huff before looking back down at his menu. He can hear Baekhyun give a soft chuckle and finds his own mouth tugging slightly. It wasn’t particularly funny, in most part relatively tasteless, but somehow it fits Baekhyun that he’d be making such comments. Baekhyun isn’t polite, instead slamming down words and shoving himself into situations and walking without regard to how it looks.

“You’re getting the salmon with tarragon butter,” Joonmyun tells his lunch companion and Baekhyun nods, looking satisfied as his arms cross over his chest.

“I think I’ve made a fine decision,” he says and Joonmyun does actually smile.

“Yes,” Joonmyun says. “I think you have as well.” Baekhyun winks at him cheekily. Joonmyun orders for them, a simplistic chicken for himself and the salmon for Baekhyun, speaking swiftly and clearly to the waiter, slipping into the normal speech he learned long ago as Baekhyun watches him, fingers tapping along his water glass.

“You like doing that,” Baekhyun comments as the waiter walks away.

“Doing what?”

“Being comfortable,” Baekhyun says, cocking his head to the side before he leans back, fingers drumming on the table. “Knowing things and operating in your own space that you are familiar with. Being in control.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being in control,” Joonmyun says, unfolding his napkin and smoothing it in his lap.

“There isn’t,” Baekhyun agrees, but something in his eyes tells Joonmyun there is more that Baekhyun isn’t quite saying. At least not yet.

Joonmyun likes going out to lunch, sitting and chatting calmly and pleasantly about this and that and rolling mundane topics that he is familiar with between himself and his companion. Baekhyun likes to talk, rambling stories which all include some degree of gesturing and volume changes, slipping in humor unexpectedly that catches Joonmyun off guard. He’s laughing, which is why he nearly misses when his phone lights up on the table and a name and number flashes on it.

Baekhyun’s eyes shift to it as well. “Go on,” he says. “It might be important. Someone dying, or getting laid for the first time.”

“Crass,” Joonmyun says giving him a stern look though amused anyway as he picks up the phone. He nearly puts it back down, the flashing name of Jongdae staring at him from the screen before he catches Baekhyun’s eye and slides his thumb over the receive bar. “Hello?”

Tonight, like many nights over many weeks over years of Joonmyun knowing Jongdae, is another night in which Jongdae asks Joonmyun to go out drinking with him and some of their other friends. Tonight, Jongdae is asking him if he’s free, seeing as most times previously Joonmyun would end up declining, spending time finishing paperwork and staying in with Jongin.

But there is no Jongin now. A small bead of ice slips down Joonmyun’s throat and settles in his stomach, mixing amid his meal and his smile falters on his face as the thought spreads through his mind like ink in water.

“Joonmyun?” Jongdae asks, voice searching over the phone. “Can you join? We haven’t seen you in so long and we’d love to have you there. We have really missed you.”

Across from him, fork poking at the poached asparagus and assorted mess of seasoned potatoes beside delicately seared salmon, Baekhyun is watching him with his chin propped on his hand. He looks patient, which is not something Joonmyun would thus far choose as a descriptive term for Baekhyun. Joonmyun can say no, decline like he has so many times, and go home, or perhaps ask Baekhyun what he is planning.

Apparently his indecision is visible on his face, as Baekhyun is raising his eyebrows and asking “What’s up?” before Joonmyun has really thought anything through.

Joonmyun can say no, or he can say yes. He can say yes and go alone or- “What are you doing later?” Joonmyun rarely branches out, sitting instead in his own circle, safe zone and simplicity. But this is whole spending time with Baekhyun thing has been increasing, to the point that he sees him almost weekly and that is more than he can say about some of his older friends.

“Breathing, hopefully,” Baekhyun says. “Why?”

Joonmyun swallows.

Jongdae is the first to notice him, letting out a loud yell of recognition as he sees Joonmyun pushing his way through the bar and people, smiling apologetically as he moves past, Baekhyun a few steps behind him. Joonmyun smiles in greeting, nodding at the other familiar faces that turn to him as Jongdae alerts the others. “You made it!” Jongdae sounds almost breathless with excitement, beaming at him as he throws an arm around his shoulders.

The smiling faces all greet and welcome, a few hands clapping Joonmyun on the back as Donghae and Kyuhyun all pull him to the bar and Lu Han immediately calls the bartender over. Jongdae slips easily to his side and Joonmyun staggers a bit at the weight before turning, smiling faintly, to see Baekhyun watching him with a twist to his lips. But a second later it’s gone and he’s stepping forward, smile brilliant as his eyes curve up into crescents. “It’s been a while,” Joonmyun finally says, glancing around at the group at large and accepting the beer Lu Han passes him.

“We were beginning to wonder if you had abandoned proper socialization,” Kyuhyun laughs, leaning against the bar and smiling, his eyes flickering between Joonmyun and Baekhyun in quiet curiosity. Donghae is also glancing at Baekhyun in while Lu Han orders another beer from the bartender. “Good to see you out,” finishes Kyuhyun, raising his bottle in a mock toast that Joonmyun mimics back, smiling.

“Good to be out,” Joonmyun says, a little surprised as he realizes how true that statement is. It has been a very long time. He turns, smiling still to look at Baekhyun before looking at the group again. “This is Baekhyun, by the way.” Baekhyun grins and holds up a hand in a swift mockery of a wave. “A friend of mine.” This is met with a general stream of introductions, Kyuhyun reaching forward first with a broad smile to shake Baekhyun’s hand, followed by Donghae and the others, all greeting and immediately including Baekhyun. Lu Han passes him his own drink and Baekhyun smiles in return before taking a swift drink.

“How did you two become friends?” Jongdae asks, shifting his arm around Joonmyun. He looks between Joonmyun and Baekhyun with a perplexed furrow of his brows, mouth curved in a smile even as his eyes linger on Baekhyun. “I’m surprised we’ve never met before.” He smiles, eyes pressed almost closed. “How long have you two been friends?”

Looking to his side, Joonmyun sees lines of tension stretch around Baekhyun’s mouth, his smile wide and bright but something about it seems off. “Actually, we just met about a month ago,” Baekhyun says before sucking in a breath and turning to Joonmyun. “Was it really just a month ago? It feels like so much longer, we know each other so well by now.”

A month ago. More like a month and a half considering Baekhyun first found him sobbing on a bar but that doesn’t feel like a qualifier for friendship. Perhaps Baekhyun is referring to when they met a second time and Joonmyun was dragged out for Chinese food and ice cream. When Baekhyun gave him his number and smiled, telling him to call.

Baekhyun is watching him, head cocked and waiting. “Has it really only been that long?”Joonmyun asks, feeling a little surprised himself. He still doesn’t know Baekhyun, not like he knows Kyungsoo or Kyuhyun or Jongdae, but somehow Baekhyun is here, situated among them like he’s always been t.

Jongdae’s hand squeezes his shoulder as he lets out a small laugh. “Joonmyun, you have always had an ability to make friends quickly.” His laughs again, jostling the other in his grip as he looks to the group. “How can he not?”

“Have you seen him cry?” comes from the side as Kyungsoo shoves his way in beside Lu Han, muttering about bathroom lines and throwing a wave and a smile at Baekhyun. “Good to see you again.”

“Likewise,” Baekhyun says, nodding at Kyungsoo as the other man turns to Lu Han and demands to know what happened to his drink. His eyes flash to Joonmyun again for a moment before Donghae is asking him something and he turns away, smiling easily.

“You’ve known him for only a month?” Jongdae immediately inquires, looking at Joonmyun closely.

This doesn't seem like a big deal. “Yeah,” Joonmyun says, shrugging. “Just about. He’s a nice guy.” He takes another sip of his beer, feeling the cool liquid slide down his throat. Jongdae just gives him a small look before settling, arm draping down over his shoulders further, elbow resting against his back.

Jongdae has always been a touchy person. Not with everyone, some excluded from his typical displays of affection as he avoids them and seizes up. But with others he will loosen up, laughing and smiling with ease as he displays affinity with both kindness, words, and physical contact. Joonmyun has never really thought much on it. Jongdae always gravitated towards him since they met in the earlier days of working in the company, asking him for advice or help before they were put into different divisions.

In all honesty, aside from Kyungsoo, Jongdae is one of Joonmyun’s oldeest and closer friends. Considering he doesn’t typically like to spend extended amounts of time with his coworkers lest it cause complications, the few friends he does have there embody a particular relationship. Kyungsoo tends to be a mix between a drill sergeant and his voice of reason, the occasional deeper caring side of him coming out. Kyuhyun is the stabilizer, the one who knows what to say and how to bring ease to a conversation or situation. Jongdae is the constant that is there whenever needed, smiling and supportive and happy to throw you under a bus should the opportunity present itself.

Though typically those scenarios seem to avoid Joonmyun, instead subjecting to Lu Han or Donghae when the moment comes up and Jongdae takes advantage of it.

“How did you meet?” Joonmyun turns to the inquisitive smile Jongdae is giving him, his eyes flickering to Baekhyun beside him. There are many ways Joonmyun can answer this. Very few of them are actually what he wants to give to Jongdae, mostly because they sound strange or give more information than he’d like to offer. Mouth opening as he struggles to try to figure out what to say, he feels a hand brush against the small of his back as Baekhyun steps beside him, smiling at Jongdae.

“We met in a café actually,” is the smooth answer that sounds natural. Baekhyun gives a small laugh, turning to Joonmyun and his eyes are alight with merriment, a bit of tease there. “It was really funny actually,” he continues, turning back to Jongdae. “I was just going in during my break and we ended up getting our orders mixed up by the cashier. Then just started chatting and just-“ He stops, smiling and shrugging before looking back down at Joonmyun.

Something about it, the way his mouth is curved and the way his eyes don’t vanish has Joonmyun closing his mouth, snapping it shut quickly. Baekhyun hasn’t looked at him like this before. It’s strange, because Joonmyun has watched the same expression on his face with everything he has watched Baekhyun do. It’s a willful, impulsive, and strong force and Joonmyun doesn’t quite know how to react to it.

“Really?” Jongdae asks, sapping Joonmyun from his staring to look at his friend. He’s smiling at Baekhyun, but something about it is tight and Joonmyun instinctively knows he doesn’t trust him, nor believe him. “Wow, that is funny.” He gives a soft high little chuckle. “It’s so strange when stuff like that happens.”

“So very strange,” Baekhyun agrees, nodding, his hand still remaining at the small of Joonmyun’s back and he can’t figure if he wants to step away or stay, between an old friend and a new one. That indecision itself is strange.

“Joonmyun,” the voice of Kyungsoo cuts through the chatter and he looks up, immediately finding the other. Kyungsoo blinks a bit, as if he hadn’t expected Joonmyun to respond to him so quickly. “I was just going over the details of the Hong Kong trip earlier today and Lu Han just brought it up again.”

Beside him, Donghae groans, face turning to a grimace as he runs a hand over his face. “Are we really talking about work right now?”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo says without hesitation before looking back at Joonmyun as Donghae groans and Kyuhyun claps him on the shoulder. “Are you sure you still want to go?”

Hong Kong. Amid the flurry of activity and running distraction from the day, Joonmyun had almost forgotten. The trip that has been taking all the time and space between when his mind strays, a light flight and three days staying on the island. It’s going to be three days of being locked in conference rooms and making business negotiations initially scheduled as free hours for personal enjoyment.

Jongin was supposed to come with him, having cleared the vacation time and been given a small assignment so he could continue working while Joonmyun worked in the conferences and meetings. Jongin was supposed to go with him, two tickets booked and hotel suite and free time set aside for a small mini vacation amid the guise of work.

A month ago, Joonmyun hadn’t wanted to back down for it, hadn’t been able to think of actually going without Jongin there and had been more than a little hopeful that by the time the trip arrived, Jongin would be back. Once, when first dating, Jongin had run, nervous and still unsure. But he had come back, a mere hours later, and a part of Joonmyun had hoped that this would be the same.

But it’s been over a month, and the trip is soon, barely a week away, and Jongin isn’t back. Joonmyun is still schedule for the trip and Lu Han is looking at him calculatedly from beside the bar. It’s business, work separated from personal and backing down at this stage isn’t acceptable. Even if every day that passes with more focusing on the trip is exhausting.

The hand at his back moves, falling away as the arm around his shoulder shifts, a hand squeezing gently at his shoulder. Joonmyun smiles. “Of course I am,” he says, laughing slightly even if it feels half hearted. “We’ve talked about this. I’m not backing out on this and don’t know why you keep checking.”

The look Kyungsoo gives him tells him he knows exactly why but he says nothing, just nodding and giving a small smile himself before turning back to Lu Han.

“You horrible boring people,” Dongdae says, grabbing another beer and glaring at them all in accusation. “It’s a Saturday night and here you all talking about work like there’s nothing else of import to discuss.”

“And you have a suggestion?” Jongdae asks, his arm falling a bit from Joonmyun as he grins at Donghae.

“I do!” Donghae says, giving a definite nod. “Sports are always fun.”

“Please excuse our resident jock,” Kyuhyun says, leaning towards Baekhyun and smiling as Donghae immediately jumps into a rambling conversation with Lu Han about the new season of baseball that is playing on the television. “We keep him around for the entertainment.”

“Clearly,” Baekhyun says, his eyes pressing up to crescents of amusement as he looks at the exchange before his eyes shift to Joonmyun. His eyes widen slightly before he looks away, smiling gently at the mouth of his bottle, eyes flickering over the small group of friends.

It's a little strange, how easily Baekhyun slips in and settles, the moments of awkward fading quickly as he without hesitation, laughing openly as he asks questions and answers them. The hours drag on and it is with a start as Joonmyun is in a jovial argument with Lu Han and Jongdae that a hand comes to rest at his elbow and he is jerked to attention.

“I’m heading out,” Baekhyun says, offering a small smile as he leans in. “It’s getting late and I need to get across town.” It’s nearly midnight. Joonmyun had lost track of time. Stepping swiftly from the conversation, he shakes himself slightly. Baekhyun gives a final wave, stepping from the group and walking swiftly away. It takes Joonmyun a moment before he’s turning, excusing himself before striding quickly after Baekhyun.

“I’ll give you a lift,” he says, catching up to Baekhyun easily. It’s late and Baekhyun lives nowhere near here, most public transport long stopped and taxi’s costing an impressive amount.

“Nah,” Baekhyun says, shrugging as he looks over to the group of friends still standing by the bar, talking amongst themselves. “You should stay, talk with your friends, miss all the times Lu Han subtly insults you and Jongdae keeps switching your drink.” He grins as he looks back at Joonmyun, giving him a swift pat on the arm. “I’ll be fine.” He smiles and it doesn’t make Joonmyun want to let him go by himself any less.

But Baekhyun is already walking away, stepping from him easily and shrugging his shoulders as he pushes through people quickly and vanishes. Joonmyun fights down the urge to follow him, to slip his way outside and follow Baekhyun, insist he give him a ride home. 

“He’s interesting,” Jongdae says as Joonmun returns, his eyes narrowed slightly as his mind seems to work behind them. Joonmyun couldn’t agree more as Kyungsoo hands him back his drink with a rare wry smile. He pulls out his phone briefly, unlocking the screen and quickly typing out a message before pocketing it and turning back to the group with a smile that feels genuine upon his face.

_Get home safely please._

At one in the morning, as Joonmyun is hanging up his coat in the front hall, tired and worn from the day and fully intent on sleeping, his phone lights up.

_You’re such a worry-wart. Go to sleep._

It makes him smile amid the darkened hues of blue he walks into moments later.

-

The busy bustle of noise and people talking on cell phones in hushed rapid tones seems to buzz throughout the hotel lobby. Pressed expensive suits and pencil skirts and starched shirts model the decor of the area and the actual styling of the area is lost amid a flurry of activity. Briefcases, business and first class airplane tags, and secretaries glued to their cellphones, speaking into headpieces and chattering away quickly fill the area.

Amid the chaotic flurry of activity and distribution of schedules and business cards, Joonmyun stands with Lu Han and Kyungsoo, moving between people with a fixed smile on his face as his system twangs in exhaustion from a long flight and little rest. The week preceding the trip had been packed, Joonmyun staying late and reminiscent of his normal ethics, working hard and focused. The partners are self-assured, prepared and so are they after late nights where Joonmyun barely turned on the lights between getting home and collapsing into bed.

It was better that way, in many senses. Coming home has become something of a consistent reminder of what isn’t there, what Joonmyun still can’t remove and still can’t let go of. It’s settled somewhat, mostly into a dull ache whenever something reminds him of Jongin or brings him back to the lack of the other. It was better to simply get home too tired to think of the furniture and items left, the unoccupied space beside him even if the pain in his back from sleeping on his side is reminder enough.

Over the course of the last week, Kyungsoo had smiled at him, features softening as Joonmyun focused and worked and stayed for normal hours, later at times and he commented on it. “It’s like before,” he had said before shaking his head. A part of Joonmyun knows it was meant to be encouraging. But another part of him pauses, thinking that over and pulling it apart. Like before when Joonmyun stayed late and brought work home to focus on and prioritize. Before, when he was with Jongin. Before, when this trip was planned as a half business event and half vacation.

Going over the schedule before the flight, Kyungsoo had smiled, Lu Han fixing details and speaking quickly on the phone. “I think this will be good for you,” he said, shifting his briefcase and checking their tickets again. “Get away for a little bit. Focus on something else.” He had smiled. “It’s like a break.”

Joonmyun had smiled with half the optimism Kyungsoo had. Now, the third day of the trip, tomorrow finalizing partnerships and proposals, Joonmyun is very certain this was not a good idea. As soon as he walked into the hotel suite, he had known it was a bad idea. Actually, if he considers it, as soon as he walked off the plane into the foreign air of Hong Kong, he knew it was a bad idea.

This wasn’t a trip for Joonmyun and business. This was a trip that was to include Jongin. And now here, his absence feels even more poignant. Business meetings and negotiations have been scheduled in the time where originally Joonmyun was to go spend time with Jongin on his semi-break. But that time still exists, the hotel suite with a bed easily fitting two people, designed for more than are staying. Going there every evening, exhausted and worn from the days vigorous activities, it’s almost more crushing as he lies on the couch, arm over his eyes and tries to breathe.

He’s said nothing, but Kyungsoo knows. Lu Han, in his element and serious expression fixed upon his face, will glance at him with increasing frequency. Joonmyun’s smile feels tired, worn, and cracking around the edges. This was meant to be a moment to get away, to clear his mind, and to push the thoughts of a relationship that ended nearly two months ago but which he still can’t let go of from his mind. But everything, every meeting scheduled over original free time and every reminder that he is where he is brings with it the memory of himself and Jongin. The time they spent planning this, discussing it, Jongin’s hand wrapping around his own as he smiled and looked at him like he never wanted to stop.

Initially, Joonmyun had thought he could do this. He had thought this was something he could use to push Jongin from his mind for just enough time. But the stark and sterile whites and creams and lush custom furniture of the hotel suite seem even more empty than Joonmyun’s home, lacking in the tall form that should be there with him but isn’t. “This was a mistake,” he says, picking up the phone as it rings and pressing his fingers into his eyes.

“Hong Kong isn’t going so well then?” Joonmyun’s eyes fly open, phone jerking away from his face to stare at the caller. He had picked it up upon hearing the light vibration, expecting to hear Jongdae asking him how the fried scorpions are for the millionth time or Kyuhyun reminding him to at least walk around outside a bit. But it isn’t. 

It’s late, here less than where it is on the other end, but late enough. “That’s one way of putting it,” Joonmyun says hesitantly, placing the phone back against his ear and relaxing slightly into the smooth couch.

“Is it the business deals?” Baekhyun asks, his voice slightly smaller as it comes through the line. “Or the food? I know nothing competes with home cooking. Or did you get food poisoning.” He tutts. “I told you to stay away from those street vendors, they’re nothing but indigestion.”

A soft chuckle breaks from Joonmyun, weak and tired but there. Over the past two weeks, Baekhyun had called a number of times, checking in and asking if he was free. It was oddly reassuring, to have someone other than Kyungsoo who would often check in and make sure he was breathing. Jongdae gets distracted, fading into a mix between over attentiveness and backing off almost brutally. But Baekhyun- “No, I don’t have food poisoning,” he says, sighing and running a hand through his hair. It’s still stiff with product. “I haven’t really left the hotel, to be honest.”

“You're in Hong Kong.” The tone Baekhyun uses sounds judging, skeptical and slightly aghast. “An amazing foreign metropolis and you haven’t even left your hotel?” Joonmyun smiles in mockery of himself. It does sound a bit ridiculous. “Joonmyun, you are one of the least interesting people in the planet. If I were there I’d drag you out.”

“Now?” Joonmyun asks. It’s nice, in many ways, the small banter on the phone a distraction from Jongdae’s rambles and Kyungsoo’s clinical analysis.

“Yes,” Baekhyun says; Joonmyun can practically see him nodding in affirmation. “Right now. I’d drag your stupid tired ass up and we’d go out and, I don’t know, get lost and have to sign for directions or something.” The image of Baekhyun, stuck between language barriers, gesturing wildly at a poor random person snaps into Joonmyun’s mind so vividly he lets out a loud laugh. “And eat everything we see,” Baekhyun finishes.

“It’s a bit too late for that,” Joonmyun tells him, settling down as his mind slips back, his eyes flickering around the room. Two. It’s designed for two. “It’s also very late where you are. Why are you even up?”

“I have selective insomnia.” Joonmyun is pretty sure that is not something that actually exists. “I don’t sleep sometimes.” There is the bang of something in the background, a light clattering as Baekhyun does something. “What’s so bad then?” Baekhyun finally asks, his voice softer. Joonmyun stares at the center of the coffee table, the books atop it resting in neat order but he doesn’t really see them. “Joonmyun.”

“I miss him,” Joonmyun admits softly. He doesn’t entirely mean to, but the words are out and it’s true. There isn’t anyway of denying it. Joonmyun misses Jongin. He misses his laughter, his smiles, his quiet conversation and how he was just as soft as he looked strong. Jongin, although appearing strong and bold, is gentle, kind and loving in so many ways others weren’t. Jongin could never really hide himself, his emotions written on his face, smiles shining with brilliance, frustration and displeasure written like a stain over his features.

Joonmyun misses him. He misses having him in his life, having him with him, misses Jongin’s voice, his touch, his antics and the strange and occasionally annoying habits he had. “I still miss him, Baekhyun.” It hurts to admit it, the vocal admissions always hurting more than the ones said a hundred times over in his head. Vocalizing it makes it even more real. Having someone else hear him admit it hurts even more.

Baekhyun doesn’t say anything for a moment, waiting in silence on the phone. Joonmyun focuses on breathing. “It’s okay to miss Jongin,” he finally says, voice quiet on the other end of the line. 

It’s silent, whatever Baekhyun was doing having stopped as Joonmyun swallows down a throat that feels too tight. It’s not something Joonmyun often talks about, Kyungsoo mostly staring at him in a mix between pity and incomprehension. Kyungsoo can move on from things like this, accept and process and step forward without wasting time hung up on details. The only time he has mentioned it to Baekhyun was that day a few weeks ago as Baekhyun had hoarded pickles and Joonmyun had cracked, spilling words and unable to stop.

“I’m not so sure anymore,” Joonmyun says. His voice is weak but he can’t gather enough strength anymore. He’s tired, so tired and with every day here in Hong Kong it just serves as a reminder than he’s here alone when he should be here with Jongin. Joonmyun hopes, he has dreams and he holds onto them as long as he can, persevering and hanging on. Sometimes he wishes he didn’t, just let go and dropped from the stage he’s built for his hopes to stand on and fall. “He was supposed to be here with me,” Joonmyun continues. He’s not sure why he’s saying this, telling Baekhyun. But Baekhyun listens. “We planned it, figured it out together. He was supposed to come and take commission work while I did the conferences and we were supposed to be together.” His eyes close. “Are supposed to be together.”

“But you’re not.” It’s quiet, hushed and soft and Joonmyun almost wishes Baekhyun had screamed it into the phone, slammed the fact into him because that would make the stabbing in his chest all the easier to brush off. But instead it’s gentle and slips into him and is far more real. They’re not together, and Joonmyun is alone in a hotel suite intended for two.

They’re not together, and Joonmyun still can’t let go.

“Joonmyun.” His name is spoken with the same softness and gentleness, and he heaves a shuddering breath, trying to fill lungs that feel too small to take in air. “You need to le-“

“I can’t.” It’s moments like this Joonmyun almost wishes he could. The moments where he can’t breathe because there isn’t enough room in his chest beside his heart. “I’m trying but-“

“When do you get back?” Baekhyun cuts him off.

“Tomorrow,” Joonmyun says with a sigh. “I get home tomorrow. Our flight is in the early afternoon. We should arrive in the evening.”

There is a soft hum of understanding through the line. “Tell me about the conferences.”

Joonmyun has been talking about work all day, moving between partners and proposals and agreements and contracts and plans and negotiating business deals. The last thing Joonmyun wants to talk about right now is business deals. “I’ve been working all day,” he says, hearing the exhaustion on his own voice. “That is literally the last thing I want to talk about right now.”

“Fine,” Baekhyun says. “Do you want to hear about how my employee can’t get coffee correctly?” 

Joonmyun blinks at this. He feels heavy, tired, and worn, and a large part of him doesn’t want to get up and walk the distance to a bed that feels far too large for himself. Thus far, his mind has strayed almost constantly, when not gripped in the intense rapid pace of a meeting where his focus is on the job, his thoughts mix and pull and bring back the significant piece that is missing.

In many ways, Joonmyun could use a bit of a distraction. “Is there a way to get coffee correctly?” he asks, settling a bit more into the couch. Joonmyun can’t really imagine a correct or incorrect way of getting coffee.

“Yes,” Baekhyun says. “And Sehun doesn’t understand it at all. And I judge him daily for it.”

Joonmyun lets out a small amused sound. He’s exhausted. “I can imagine that.”

“No,” Baekhyun says, the sounds in the background starting again. “Not like this. I swear, Sehun is the most socially awkward human on the planet when it comes to people he doesn’t consider below himself, which is roughly 0.9% of the population.”

“Who is Sehun again?” Joonmyun asks. His eyes are getting heavier. Every day has been long, made longer by the emotional fatigue he wasn’t entirely prepared for.

“My silly employee who thinks I don’t notice when he steals gummies from the jars,” Baekhyun grumbles over the line. “That kid consumes more ice slushies than my customers and still looks like he’s just off the shores of emaciated.”

Joonmyun hums gently to show he’s listening as Baekhyun goes on to tell him about how this young employee of his can never seem to understand the concept of getting coffee in a reasonable time span. Baekhyun has multiple theories on what takes Sehun so long. The first theory is that Sehun is actually an incredibly well disguised spy who is surveying some sort of mafia shenanigans going on in the neighborhood with the clever guise of a hopelessly useless young adult that has a tendency to get his shirt stuck in the cash register. The second theory is that Sehun is actually dumb as bricks and can never remember the way back from across the street and thus spends hours wandering around pitifully lost.

Joonmyun doesn’t hear the third theory. He’s fallen asleep. It’s one of the first nights he sleeps completely through in a long time, the first times that he wakes up only once morning light spreads over the area and feeling relatively rested. It’s one of the few mornings he wakes up and Joonmyun isn’t immediately reaching out in bed to search for something that isn’t there. Instead he blinks out over the quiet living room, still in the half removed suit from the day earlier and his phone lying on the couch beside him. The charge is dead but looking down at it, Joonmyun wonders how long Baekhyun continued talking after he fell asleep.

They close three business deals, Lu Han double taking over breakfast when Joonmyun shows up and gives them a weak smile. “You slept,” is all he says and it has Kyungsoo’s head snapping up from where he’s been unenthusiastically plodding through his porridge.

They board the plane home in the late morning with three new deals and guaranteed company expansion. Lu Han is thrilled, talking on his headset once they reach proper altitude and Kyungsoo tacking away at his laptop. Joonmyun reads over reports and barely a word is passed between them. They separate at the airport and Joonmyun is in a haze of thought, pulling through business deals and, for the first time in a long while, looking forward to getting home. Someday, he’d like to return to Hong Kong, explore the country. Perhaps one day he will return, this time with Jongin. It is a fading hope, but still a hope.

Joonmyun is ready to be home, to relax and unwind and let go. Then he steps into the apartment and turns on the light.

The apartment is exactly as he left it, nothing out of place, the furniture and artifacts and objects all where he left them, lamps situated and dark blue curtains drawn to block out the lights of the city. It’s all blue, the color endless and striking into him like the crash of a wave and suddenly the absence of Jongin in Hong Kong is ten times worse here.

Walking into the apartment and every step is like wading back in time and through memory and moments he can’t replay properly. A color that resonates and identifies with something he wanted to keep and never imaged he wouldn’t surrounds Joonmyun and it’s too much. It’s been two months of him passing by, keeping his head above water as he holds on but he’s tired, it’s been too long, and he can’t breathe for drowning.

The space has never felt so hollow before, the coats and clothing hanging in closets and piled in drawers, the items given and acquired over time for another. Things purchased with the thought of Jongin on his mind all sit and stare at him with vacant hollow expressions. Photographs all stare at him emptily from frames and through glass, their expression frozen in time and lacking the warmth Joonmyun used to find from them, now seeming to taunt of a time far happier than this. A sea of emptiness that seems to swallow him whole.

The air clogs in his lungs, sticks in his throat and expands into a vacuum that traps Joonmyun’s chest and it’s too much. He barely makes it through the front hall, his eyes flickering to the living room and to a couch that only hosts one now and the deep sea blue carpet upon the floor before he’s gasping.

It's not quite hyperventilating. That would imply nervousness and panic that Joonmyun doesn’t possess at the moment. No, this is more the last desperate attempts to fill himself with something more than the crushing weight of the reality he’s been pushing back and back and back suddenly resurfacing with a roar. Sinking onto the couch as his legs tremble, Joonmyun is shaking.

He can’t cry, his system in too much shock to do so. There is no Jongin. There is no happy ending. There is only this, the stark emptiness of a room filled with things that don’t mean anything anymore. After a grievance period that passed in avoidance and denial, it’s suffocating.

Joonmyun almost misses the light vibration of his phone, nestled in his pocket. He almost doesn’t answer, feeling the last resistance snapping as he slips further down. He almost drops the phone, hands uncaring and lets the phone flashing a familiar name to the couch and lets himself drown.

“Are you home?”

Joonmyun wants to say no. There is no home where he can’t find solace and comfort. There is no place he can call a place to rest and identify as where he wants to return to at the end of the day. Home is where love waits and welcomes you and this place lacks all traces of home as it once did. “I’m back,” he says instead, voice weak as his eyes close and try to block out the swimming hues of navy and cerulean.

“What happened to calling me when you got in,” grumbles at him. Joonmyun wants to hang up, let the phone slip from his hands and leave the calls suspended. “Your plane could have blown up or you could have been abducted by terrorists and then who would I drag out to feed ducks or pigeons with me tomorrow?”

“Sorry.” He’s not sure why he’s apologizing. Technically there is no real reason for Joonmyun to feel guilty or apologetic for not calling Baekhyun. Baekhyun doesn’t need to know where he is or who he is with. But even under the joking admonishment he knows that Beakhyun is doing this out of concern. “I just got in.”

A pause. “How did the rest of the trip go?”

Joonmyun can’t answer him. Not immediately. Talking to Baekhyun last night had been helpful, somehow stilling his mind from the polar switches between being business focused and his mind swimming with the reminder of Jongin. “We signed three business deals.”

There is a soft sigh. “That wasn’t entirely what I was referring to, but okay.” Joonmyun knows what Baekhyun was probably referring to when he asked the question. He’s just not ready to really get into he details of it quite yet.

“It wasn’t as bad-“ his voice catches and he clears his throat. Baekhyun waits. There is the option of continuing as this has been, where Baekhyun only has glimpses into the reality that Joonmyun is living. The narrow vision of what Joonmyun has told him and the façade where Joonmyun is okay. The lie that Joonmyun isn’t beginning to wonder if he’s even in control of this anymore. He can’t talk to Kyungsoo about this, can’t admit it and watch the other man look at him as he has countless times before. Baekhyun has never looked at him like that. “I feel like I’m suffocating, Baekhyun.”

Joonmyun doesn’t know Baekhyun as well as he might so of his other friends. But Baekhyun is here, is listening, and is one of the first to not look at him in complete pity or exasperation. Two months later and Joonmyun is still lost in the ocean.

“Why?” It’s a simple question. One which should be easy to answer if not for the fact that Joonmyun is struggling himself.

“Everything reminds me of him,” Joonmyun admits. “Everything. Everything I do, everything I see, everything makes me think of Jongin and reminds me that he’s not here. He’s just-“

“Like what?” Baekhyun asks, neutral and inoffensive as he easily interrupts Joonmyun.

“Everything,” Joonmyun sighs, closing his eyes and rubbing his fingers into them. “Being in Hong Kong, going to work sometimes, revisiting places, seeing things he liked or that we did in together or even just hearing music will make me think of him. And being home is the worst.”

“Being home?” Baekhyun’s tone is a little hesitant, as if he’s not sure if he should really be delving into this.

The wash of color around the room seems to bring with it a melancholy drag that takes him down with it. It is Jongin. All of it is Jongin. “He left a lot of things here,” Joonmyun admits quietly. “And every time I see what he didn’t take I-“

“Think of him, yeah,” Baekhyun finishes for him. “I get that.” Joonmyun doubts that he does but doesn’t comment or elaborate. Jongin hadn’t taken anything, had left it all, everything Joonmyun had given him or purchased with him in mind. “And you can’t get rid of it because it’s hard to let go.”

The truth of the statement seems pathetic, foolish after so long but it is accurate. “Yeah,” Joonmyun admits, letting his hand drop from his eyes and rest limply in his lap. “I can’t get rid of it. I don’t want to, in some regards.”

Baekhyun hums gently, sounding as if he’s thinking over the line and Joonmyun can almost imagine him gently chewing his lip with a small contemplative frown. “Tell you what,” Baekhyun says. “Why don’t I come over?” Joonmyun’s eyes fly open as he frowns. “I can keep you company for a bit, maybe help you get rid of a few things and, I don’t know, distract you or something.”

“It’s late.” Joonmyun looks around. It’s not a simple matter of a few things. It’s everything. Everything is Jongin. 

“It’ll be exciting,” Baekhyun says. “It’ll be the first time I come over and I can make fun of your furniture choices. Good times.” This seems like it could be a very bad idea. “Where do you live?”

“Baekhyun, you don’t have to come over.” Joonmyun is tired. Baekhyun is not near by. This is a bad idea even if Joonmyun might not entirely be against the idea of Baekhyun’s company at the moment.

“I want to.” The tone Baekhyun uses indicates that his mind is made up. “Don’t make me Google you.”

Forty minutes later, after Joonmyun has put away his suitcase and unpacked, trying not to look at the blue bed spread and sheets and pillows laid out expectantly, the intercom buzzes and he pulls open the door. Baekhyun smiles, beanie pulled over his head and hiding his ears, as he holds up a beer in each hand. “To help you sleep,” he says, smiling brightly as he walks into the apartment, following Joonmyun. “I…“ he trails off, eyes drifting over the apartment as his steps slow.

Joonmyun watches him as he looks around, his eyes stretching over everything and taking in the apartment. “You have a lot of furniture,” he says finally. “And this place is huge.” He looks over at Joonmyun as he presses the two cold drinks into his hands, rubbing his hands on his jeans and shrugging slightly in his oversized jacket. “You know, if you move all the furniture around, you could technically open a roller rink.”

Normally, Joonmyun might smile and laugh at this, the comment amusing and foolish and Baekhyun’s smile falters when he doesn’t do more than a small half laugh. “I suppose,” he says, putting down the drinks.

“Everything is so blue,” Baekhyun finally says, looking around and taking in the mass of color tones before him. “Do you have some sort of obsession with blue? I can kind of see what you mean by the whole drowning thing. I feel like I’m underwater.”” He glances at Joonmyun with a slightly skeptical expression when Joonmyun is silent. “I just didn’t think it was your color or something.”

“It’s Jongin’s favorite color,” Joonmyun says, voice soft and distant as his eyes sweep over the apartment before him.

It’s quiet and it takes a moment before Joonmyun looks over to see Baekhyun staring at him, not at the apartment, as a frown tugs at his mouth. “Joonmyun,” he says, and it sounds pitying and a little disbelieving. “Is all of this…?“

“He didn’t take any of it,” Joonmyun says, turning from Baekhyun and looking over the apartment, over the sea of blue before him. Jongin’s favorite color, a small smile on his face when he saw it or always leaned towards it regarding design or color choice. Blue, a constant and calming shade that Joonmyun associates with Jongin and only Jongin so often. “He left it. All of it.”

“This is…” Baekhyun’s eyes trail around the apartment, brown flickering over everything and spanning to the walls. “This is all…“ He frowns, lips pressing together as his eyes narrow. “Joonmyun, you need to get rid of this stuff. You-“

“I can’t,” Joonmyun says, shaking his head and giving a small laugh. It’s something he should do, something Kyungsoo has said in the moments he’s stopped by to drop something off or when he casually inquires. It’s something Joonmyun can’t do because he’s still stuck. “I can’t get rid of it, Baekhyun.”

“Why not?” Baekhyun sounds annoyed, not severely so but enough that it catches Joonmyun’s attention and he looks at the other man. “Why do you keep all of this stuff if it just hurts you to be around? Joonmyun, you have to clean this stuff out.”

He’s keeping it just in case. “I can’t get rid of it because what if he comes back?” Joonmyun finally says, finally admits and his voice is quiet, the soft hope and idea still lingering in his mind and now hanging on the air.

“Are you-“ Joonmyun looks up sharply to see Baekhyun actively frowning, his eyes hard on Joonmyun. “Joonmyun it’s been two months.” Yes, it has. “Two months and he hasn't talked to you, contacted you or done anything. Two months and-“

“I don’t want to get rid of it because if he comes-“

“He’s not coming back, Joonmyun!” No, this isn’t what Joonmyun wants, what he needs. It isn’t what he likes hearing and he shakes his head, stepping from Baekhyun. “Joonmyun, he’s gone.” No. “He left you.” No. “It’s been two months and Jongin left you. He isn’t-“

“He’s coming back.” It’s a lie. It seems to give distance, the span of time and the folder lying in his desk, delivered a week ago and still unopened pushing away raw fact and keeping him steady. The ignored phone calls and messages and complete shut down of contact evidence of this, exactly what Baekhyun is slamming down before him harshly. But Joonmyun can’t let it go. He’s still holding onto the barest hope that maybe-

“No, he’s not, Joonmyun,” Baekhyun says, sighing heavily and pulling his beanie from his head, running a hand through his hair vigorously, tousling the brown strands and tugging. “Jongin isn’t coming back. And you're just sticking yourself deeper and deeper into this but he’s _not coming back, Joonmyun._ He isn’t and you need to stop.”

“No.” Joonmyun doesn’t even know what he’s denying anymore. Baekhyun needs to leave, he needs to get out, his annoyed huffs and biting words of realism unwelcome and he needs to leave. “No,” he repeats.

Baekhyun is breathing, even steady breaths through his nose as his eyes fix on Joonmyun. “You need to let go,” he says and Joonmyun can’t meet his eyes. It’s not that easy. “You need to let go of Jongin and move on.”

“I can’t,” Joonmyun says, voice quiet as he looks over the room, suffocating in memory and reminder of Jongin and he may be drowning but a part of him doesn’t want to breathe. “Baekhyun-“

But Baekhyun is shaking his head. “No, Joonmyun,” he says, voice clipped with anger before he sighs and glares into the apartment. “You can, you just don’t want to.”

The door closes with a quiet snap and somehow, despite the incessant heartache that comes with the apartment typically, the slam of the door and the disappearance of Baekhyun leaves him feeling even worse. Not because he’s hollow, but because rather than being empty, it’s instead a mix of self pity and disgust that slips along the ache of still wanting, wishing for the door to open again and reveal a familiar smiling face.

Joonmyun goes to bed, throat tight as he lays into the blue sheets, soft and expensive and purchased with Jongin in mind. Joonmyun goes to bed and drowns in the waters of denial, the angered and frustrated image of Baekhyun swimming before his eyes. His ears ring as an angered and tired voice says he’s gone and grates into him until sleep consumes him.

-

Joonmyun wakes up with the stale taste of un-brushed teeth in his mouth. He wakes up feelings stiff, wound in his sheets and uncomfortable, frowning as the images from the previous few days, of time in Hong Kong and the brief appearance of Baekhyun last night, revisit him. He sighs, sitting up and running a hand over his face at the argument last night that he never intended to happen, the annoyed face of Baekhyun mixed into what Joonmyun ignored at the time but which shone in retrospect. Baekhyun’s disappointment, in him and in the situation has him wincing at his reflection in the mirror across the room.

The curtains hanging at the windows block out all light, the only indication of the time of day being the blinking alarm clock on his beside table, the note with the words _I’m sorry_ resting just beside it, numbers reading at just past six.

The towels in the bathroom are blue, the tiles white, stark in contrast, and the shower curtain a light sky shade. Joonmyun sighs as he runs fingers through damp hair, getting dressed in a casual set of jeans and a button down. He’s not hungry, instead sitting at his kitchen table and tapping absently at the two bottles of beer still sitting there from the previous night. 

Joonmyun doesn't like confrontation, the raise of voices and the exchange of irritation and anger, emotions high and volatile. He never really argued much with Jongin. They had their fair share of fights, as any couple does, but not a significant number. In many regards he’s never been particularly good with confrontation when it is in his personal life. He does his best to remedy them, apologizing with gifts or trying to smooth things over. Though he is pretty sure that those things won’t work this time.

He enjoys Baekhyun, likes his company, and in many ways wishes that last night simply had not happened. That Baekhyun had never stepped into his apartment and seen that which Joonmyun had preferred to keep hidden, close to the chest. Baekhyun doesn’t need to know and the fact that he does doesn’t sit well with Joonmyun, nor the quiet departure that had left things unresolved. Open ended and as Joonmyun runs his fingers along the rim of the bottles before him, he wonders if it will ever resolve. He doesn’t fight with his friends often, and isn’t sure how to go about things this time.

The intercom buzzes and Joonmyun starts, jerking to look towards the front hall and frowning. He rarely gets visitors, even if he does occasionally host Kyungsoo, Jongdae or his other friends. However, unplanned visitors are rare for him though and he stands with a frown on his features.

Joonmyun is doubly shocked when he answers the door and finds not some random stranger, but Baekhyun, standing a sleeveless shirt, jeans, a baseball cap backwards on his head, and holding up a paper bag and coffees. “Morning,” he says, grinning widely and Joonmyun blinks in shock, unable to really say anything. If there could have been anything he might have expected, it isn’t this. Baekhyun had left, brows furrowed in irritation last night. “Sleep well?” Baekhyun asks, stepping forward with a vibrant smile and Joonmyun notices Kyungsoo standing behind him, looking lazily bored.

Joonmyun really was not expecting this today. “Hi?” he says, stepping back as Baekhyun makes to walk into his apartment determinately. “Wh-“

“Sorry for not calling,” Baekhyun says, brushing past him and into the apartment, his smile turning vaguely apologetic before he’s putting down the coffees and large paper bag on the kitchen counter as Joonmyun follows him in bewilderment. “I figured you were tired though, after Hong Kong, and thought you’d rather sleep.”

“It’s barely eight in the morning,” Joonmyun points out as Baekhyun picks up the coffees and shoves one into his hands, handing the other to Kyungsoo as the other walks in before taking a large sip from his own. “I don’t think that’s really letting me sleep in.”

“I said sleep not sleep in. I know you better than that,” Baekhyun says, pulling open the bag on the table and pulling out an assortment of pastries, spreading them out on the counter. “Plus, you’re up and showered and alive. What would you be doing right now if I weren’t here disrupting you?”

Joonmyun watches in confusion as Baekhyun grins, moving about his kitchen as if he belongs there and rutting through cupboards and drawers, playing a searching game for plates and knives. Joonmyun didn’t really have much planned for today, aside from resting up and doing some wrap up paperwork from Hong Kong. He certainly didn’t expect company. “What are you doing here?” he asks, automatically accepting the plate with two muffins and an egg tart Baekhyun hands him. He looks at Kyungsoo who shrugs, scone already between his lips.

“This,” Baekhyun says, taking a bite of a croissant and chewing. “Is an intervention.” He grins, mouth filled with pastry before taking a large sip of coffee.

“I don’t understand.” Joonmyun seriously doesn’t. Last night Baekhyun had frowned, voice turning rough with irritation as he had called out facts before leaving, silence the only thing that followed him. But here he is, smiling and happily munching on breakfast pastries as if nothing transpired.

“It’s high time, actually,” Kyungsoo says from beside the sink, leaning against it and sighing. “Honestly Joonmyun, you should be thanking Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun grins as he shoves the last of his croissant into his mouth. “Today,” he declares, dusting his hands. “We are going to help you.” He picks up the box of garbage bags and opens it, pulling one out. “We are getting rid of that which makes you so blue.” Black plastic shakes out loudly, expanding with air. “Which is, in fact, blue.”

It clicks.

“You’re taking away Jongin’s things” Joonmyun clarifies, putting down his coffee as his stomach turns.

“No,” Kyungsoo says and Joonmyun frowns at his long time friend and assistant. “We’re helping you get rid of the stuff you should have a long time ago.”

“We’re helping you do what you can’t,” Baekhyun continues, his smile bright and his eyes glinting in determination. “We’re getting rid of the blue that makes you blue.”

“That was romantic,” Kyungsoo comments idly as Joonmyun can’t figure out of he should gape or frown.

“I know,” Baekhyun says, rising his coffee to his lips as he grins, eyebrows raising coyly. “I’m quite proud of myself for that one actually.”

“Should be,” Kyungsoo continues. “Where to first?” Neither of them looks at Joonmyun.

Somehow, they move, operate, and step into the apartment before Joonmyun has really said anything that isn’t laced with confusion, instead walking after them in a sort of numb bewilderment. He had thought Baekhyun was angry with him, would avoid him and continue on this route until Joonmyun figured out a way to resolve it. And yet here he is happily walking into his apartment with a sure smile and looking around eagerly.

Kyungsoo whistles as he walks into the living room. “It really is blue,” he says. “I think I usually tried to block it out but yeah, I do kind of feel like I’m drowning.” He turns to Joonmyun. “What isn’t Jongin’s?”

Looking around at everything, the couches, the table, the carpet, the entertainment system and even the pillows, almost everything is Jongin. The books on the coffee table and the coasters on the sidebar, the DVD’s by the television and the upholstery on the couch are all Jongin. “I-“ he looks around, feeling at a loss as he takes in what is supposed to be his home. He doesn’t want to let it go. It’s been here for so long, it’s stayed constant and he’s so used to seeing it, to seeing Jongin and having the other walk through his mind.

It’s all Jongin.

Baekhyun is watching him, standing in the center of the living room, in a sea of blue wearing a bright red shirt and washed gray jeans, his white cap fixed backwards on his head. “Nothing,” he says, voice quiet and Baekhyun stays, watching him for a moment longer, eyes fixed on his, waiting. “It’s all Jongin.” Surrounded in a sea of blue and memory. It’s all Jongin.

Baekhyun nods, eyes fixed on him before he’s stepping forward and looking around. “Aright,” he says, nodding once more and putting his hands on his hips in a very domineering gesture. He’s put himself in charge, taken control. In many aspects, Joonmyun doesn’t want to fight him, the energy to do so gone. He gives a soft hum, eyes by the windows. “Curtains first,” Baekhyun says before striding forward, Kyungsoo following immediately.

It has been a long time since Joonmyun has see out the large windows of his living room, the heavy light-blocking curtains of navy hanging about them and blocking the view from his apartment. Seeing them gone, the windows open and spilling bright sunlight into the space is strange. He’s not used to it, and the light is almost blinding in the early morning, but it’s not entirely a bad different. The windows look naked, bare and empty, but not the same empty that it had been when something had be there instead.

Baekhyun is careful, folding the large stretches of fine fabric and placing them into a large garbage bag that sets in the middle of the room atop the coffee table. He gives a short huff of breath before he moves to the rest of the apartment. “That’s better,” Baekhyun says, smiling at the sunlight streaming in through the open windows as he looks at Joonmyun. “Add a bit of light to your life. Brighten up your world, Joonmyun.” He smiles and somehow it’s just as bright as the sunlight.

It moves fast after that, Baekhyun and Kyungsoo working quickly, grabbing things and transferring them to large plastic garbage bags carefully and before he knows it, Joonmyun is running about, grabbing things and protesting. _Not that, no don’t,_ and _wait_ slipping from his tongue and Baekhyun looks at him with a small patronizing frown. “Why Joonmyun?” he asks, looking stern.

“It’s-“ A part of Jongin he doesn’t want to part with. Joonmyun never finishes and Baekhyun, every time, gives him a small slap to the back of the hand. After the first few times this happened, Joonmyun had finally snapped, voice rising as Baekhyun rapped him hard over the back of the hand, his knuckles smarting. “Stop doing that!” he had snapped, glaring at Baekhyun as the other shook out his hand idly.

“This is pain therapy,” Baekhyun stated idly as Kyungsoo snorted while stuffing aqua and periwinkle into a bag. “The more you object to me helping you let go of Jongin, the more slaps you get.” Joonmyun isn’t sure he likes this idea, especially since Baekhyun seems to be getting more and more excited as he finds new things to shove into plastic bags. “Unless it’s unrelated to Jongin, you get a slap.”

“I don’t like this therapy,” Joonmyun grumbles, smoothing his hand over the stinging skin from Baekhyun’s abuse. “What about cake therapy?”

“I don't support overindulgence,” Baekhyun says, throwing him a smile before bouncing off to the couch and demanding to know if they need to get rid of the whole thing or just reupholster it. When Joonmyun doesn’t answer, Kyungsoo hits him on the shoulder and shrugs saying “pain therapy” before shoving him to help them maneuver the seating out of his front door.

Baekhyun looks impossibly satisfied with himself, standing in the center of the living room, now mostly bare save for the entertainment center and one a few pieces of furniture, mainly Joonmyun’s own reading chair and a black couch he had from when he first moved into the unit. The pictures lining the shelves and placed amid the bookcases are all gone, the faces gone and the frozen expressions absent. It’s slightly calming without them watching. “Where’s next?” Baekhyun asks, looking around eagerly.

There are roughly thirty garbage bags near the front entrance, six pieces of seating and furniture, a few sculptures and quiet a few random objects by the front hall. Baekhyun sends Kyungsoo out to get more garbage bags as he practically hops to the other rooms, flying through Joonmyun’s study and ridding it of anything blue before pandering to the extra bedroom, clearing it quickly. Joonmyun finds himself helping, almost automatic now that his hands burn from Baekhyun’s sharp punishments.

When Kyungsoo returns, he drags both of them to the kitchen to sit down and eat, having grabbed a few things while out and quickly whipping up some food for them all. It’s been a long while since Joonmyun had a really decently home cooked meal in his apartment, most days just ordering, eating out, or making something simple.

After eating, Baekhyun sends both Kyungsoo and Joonmyun to the front closets. “Don’t think I didn’t notice,” he says, frowning at Joonmyun in disapproval. “There’s no way you would fit into half those coats in there.” Kyungsoo gives him a judging look before wandering off immediately, pulling open the door of one of the front hall closets to reveal the array of coats and jackets sized for someone much taller and broader than Joonmyun.

“They’re his,” Joonmyun tries, frowning at the coats. What if Jongin comes back, needing a winter coat or something and finds nothing? How disappointed would he be, that Joonmyun cast away his things as if Jongin meant nothing to him? “They belong to-“

“No one,” Baekhyun says, and his tone holds less determined edge rather than quiet reminder. “They belong to no one, Joonmyun. They're collecting dust. He left them because he didn’t want them.”

Joonmyun opens his mouth to say something, say it sounds like Baekhyun is saying _because he didn’t want Joonmyun,_ before it dies on his lips. Baekhyun’s eyes soften as he wraps his arm around Joonmyun, turning him swiftly and marching him through the quickly emptying apartment. “Come on,” Baekhyun says, voice light. “I’m sure there’s more you’re trying to horde.”

Baekhyun is flushed, hot and faintly breathless as he pulls Joonmyun into his side, grin on his face despite how his hair has stuck to his face by his temples. But he’s still moving without pause, rapid-fire asking Joonmyun which paintings Jongin chose and which weren’t. He finally stops, staring at the painting near the back wall and it takes Joonmyun a moment before he remembers where it came from.

“Please,” Baekhyun says, looking at the painting in a mix between disgust and awe. “Please, tell me Jongin picked this one out.” He shakes his head, glancing at Joonmyun. “Please tell me he did so I can just laugh at his taste and tell you good riddance.”

The painting is the one Joonmyun had purchased a month ago, at the gallery opening where he had last seen Jongin and his… companion. It’s huge, would easily take up a good portion of one of the living room walls, and Joonmyun still isn't sure what it is of. He initially thought it was a narwhal but hadn't been sure. A narwhal perhaps with dramatic liberties taken regarding legs, but Joonmyun honestly still isn’t sure. “I got it a month ago,” he says, looking at the painting and still debating if it was the better decisions he’s made.

Joonmyun has never really understood art and this work by the great renowned master artist Wu is no exception.

“Do you know what it’s supposed to be?” Baekhyun asks eyebrows raised at the information. 

“A narwhal?” Joonmyun suggests and Baekhyun makes a long sound of amused contemplation.

“I thought it looked more like a wonky buffalo,” Baekhyun says, tilting his head to the side and looking at it from narrowed eyes. “Yeah, I’m going to stick with wonky buffalo.” He hums, tapping his fingers against his lips before grinning. “I like it,” he says, turning to look at Joonmyun and beaming. “It looks absolutely nothing like anything else here. And especially not like Jongin.” He lets out a small laugh. “It doesn’t even look like you.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Joonmyun says, laughing a bit himself as he watches Baekhyun shuffle about the living room, holding up his hands as if placing the picture there with his mind.

“Absolutely,” Baekhyun says, stopping his picture projection to throw him a wink. “It’s excellent.” He pauses, arms dropping as he thinks. “What about right over you bed?” he suggests, looking at Joonmyun and frowning seriously. “Right smack dab over the headboard. A great masterpiece of a narwhal wonky buffalo.” Joonmyun thinks of himself, tired and climbing into bed every night with the giant painting over his bed and shudders. Baekhyun apparently doesn’t need him to answer either, nodding with a slight grimace. “Yeah, you’re right,” he says even though Joonmyun hasn’t said anything. “I don’t want that looming over me in bed either.”

Puffing out his cheeks and sighing, Baekhyun steps back, shaking his head. “Okay,” he says, and it snaps Joonmyun from his thoughts. “Onto the next step.” The next step apparently is the bedroom and Joonmyun isn’t fast enough before Baekhyun is bursting into the room and stopping so that Joonmyun nearly collides with him. Baekhyun looks at him with slightly saddened eyes. “Joonmyun,” he says and that’s all before Joonmyun is looking away and to the bed, sheets of azure and cobalt stretching in a sea of hues. “Even the carpet is blue,” Baekhyun says quietly and Joonmyun doesn’t want to talk about this. “No wonder you felt like you were drowning.”

Baekhyun takes down the curtains first, sending Joonmyun to go and find something, anything, any color of sheets that isn’t blue, with a small pleading edge to his voice for Joonmyun to please have something not blue that he can sleep on. The curtains are folded neatly on the cream small sofa couch by the windows when Joonmyun returns with an old set of sheets, plain white and dull as Baekhyun is staring into one of the closets and shaking his head.

“They’re-“ Joonmyun stops on the words as Baekhyun shakes his head more firmly.

“They’re all his,” Baekhyun says, looking at the pristine shirts, jackets, and slacks hanging in neat rows. “And they’re all going.” He takes out a suit first and here, Joonmyun stops him.

“Those are Armani,” he says, hand on Baekhyun’s arm as he frowns. The suit Baekhyun is currently holding cost more than probably what Baekhyun makes in a week at his shop. Joonmyun isn’t proud of the association, but it is a reality.

“And they will make some homeless person very happy,” Baekhyun tells him, eyes hard as he looks at Joonmyun and tosses the suit onto the bed carelessly. “He’ll be the best dressed hobo for miles around and everyone will admire him.” Baekhyun takes out another suit. “Two well dressed low income citizens,” he says as he tosses it on the bed before grabbing another. “Three!”

Joonmyun just shakes his head, watching as the expensive clothing is tossed without a care in the world and Baekhyun looks gleeful, grabbing a few shirts together and throwing them onto the bed. “We’re just giving them away?” he asks helplessly, watching as Baekhyun adds a few pants to the growing pile.

“Yes,” Baekhyun says, shaking his bangs from his face as he pulls out a few more shirts. “We’re giving them away, Joonmyun. We are letting someone else find use for things another person didn’t want. Jongin didn’t want these.” Joonmyun winces slightly and Baekhyun throws another few shirts onto the pile. “He left them here because of that.” Two shirts left. “And you can’t wear them so give someone else the chance to.” The last shirt is thrown and Baekhyun turns, reaching down and grabbing one of the large plastic garbage bags, holding it out to Joonmyun.

The closet looks strange, filled only half with Joonmyun’s things, one side entirely empty and free of items. The space once filled with unused items that Joonmyun had glanced at every morning for the past two months as he got dressed and paused vacant. Now they’re gone, lying on Joonmyun’s bed and Baekhyun is waiting. “It’s so empty,” he says, looking at the rack.

“Yep,” Baekhyun agrees with a nod before leaning forward and grabbing a large number of Joonmyun’s clothes and sliding them enthusiastically over the rack, filling in the space with horribly spaced shirts and jackets. He smiles when he turns to Joonmyun, holding out the garbage bag again. “And now it’s not.”

Joonmyun’s hands are red and twinging in pain by the time Kyungsoo drags both himself and Baekhyun from the bedroom, Baekhyun’s repeated slapping of his hands as he had protested over the items Baekhyun managed to dig through at the dresser. A custom watch, simplistic rings, a few necklaces and other such accessories were thrown into bags as Baekhyun gave him a stern look and a slap.

“Whose are these?” he had demanded, frowning at Joonmyun as he held up the various items. When Joonmyun didn’t answer, he shook his head and gave him a brief slap, tossing whatever it was into the black plastic bag before moving onto the next. He had glared at the blue carpet for a while before sighing and telling Joonmyun “another day” before stripping the bed clean and dragging Joonmyun to fit the sheets to it.

They’re all exhausted, eating through a quickly prepared meal of spaghetti as Baekhyun grins and jokes between the other two and Kyungsoo makes small comments. Joonmyun can't help but smile. “It looks better,” Baekhyun says, looking out over the significantly emptier apartment. “No more blue.” He grins. He and Kyungsoo had brought down a lot of the furniture and bags to the basement levels, leaving Joonmyun to filter through his old movie collection. There’s really not much left, just a few pieces of furniture, windows wide and the lights of the city winking beyond them in the night darkness.

“No more blue,” Joonmyun mimics, looking around and taking in the expanse of space. “There’s so much space,” he muses, looking over it all. Baekhyun had eventually suggested to hang the giant painting in the center wall of the living room, visible from all areas of the main area and causing confusion all around. Joonmyun saw no reason to protest and Kyungsoo barked corrections at them both as they tried to hang the heavy thing with varying success.

“I like it,” Baekhyun says, smiling and looking exhausted as he takes one more look around. It’s late and Kyungsoo has been yawning for the last hour, preferring to sit and watch as Baekhyun and Joonmyun argued over CD’s. Baekhyun runs a hand through his hair, fixing his hat back onto his head as Kyungsoo shrugs on his coat and opens the door. “Now you get to make it your own,” he says, looking to Joonmyun.

There is a brief moment when Joonmyun looks back at him, Baekhyun’s eyes flickering over his face, and he thinks Baekhyun is going to reach forward, extend his arms and wrap him into a hug. A brief moment when Joonmyun tries to think if he’ll stand and wait for Baekhyun to let go or wrap his arms around Baekhyun and pull him closer.

But then Baekhyun is stepping back, giving him a brief wave before turning and walking out the door. “I’ll be back,” Baekhyun promises and Joonmyun believes him as the door closes.

Sinking onto the black couch, one of the only few things left in the living room, Joonmyun sighs as he looks around. It’s so different, drastically so, and the absence of that which he has know, taken for as normal and for granted as the constant in his life vanished. There is no expanse of blue hues and color tones stretching before him. Instead only empty space, vacant of most color and waiting.

But it’s different, the empty stretch before him filled with nothing different from the empty space that seemed to drown in the mix of azure and cobalt and indigo. It’s fresh, it’s expectant, and somehow, as Joonmyun’s eyes fix on the forgotten oversized jacket draped over his armchair, he thinks this emptiness he can deal with much better.

-

When Baekhyun calls him at seven the next morning and tells him he’s dragging him out to find things to make his apartment less ‘negative space’, Joonmyun imagines them walking around one of the large department stores. He pictures selecting from a variety of items all in various prices and hues. He expects to go to look for quality production sold to them by fancy store clerks in pressed blouses and sleek black pumps.

He doesn’t expect for Baekhyun to show up with breakfast sandwiches, a huge grin, and drag him out to one of the generic home good shops. “Curtains,” Baekhyun tells the stores clerk, bouncing slightly beside Joonmyun as he stands and smiles at the slightly amused looking saleswoman.

“Really?” Joonmyun asks, following Baekhyun as the woman leads them past prices that he usually spends on a dinner placed on cushions and small chairs. “Of all things, we’re looking at curtains first?”

“Curtains are nice,” Baekhyun says, throwing him a look. “I happen to think curtains are extremely important when setting up your home. Plus you never want to get curtains at a second hand shop. You never know if they have mold or bugs in them.”

The sales woman coughs loudly in front of them and Baekhyun glances at her before smiling. “What color do you want that isn’t blue?”

Fifteen minutes later and a lot of patience on the part of the sales woman as Joonmyun frowns at curtain colors and Baekhyun continuously makes suggestions, Joonmyun finally sighs, shoving him. “Why don’t you just choose them, then?” he snaps, patience running thin.

“I can’t do that,” Baekhyun says, shaking his head reverently. “They’re your curtains. Your house, your curtains; I can’t break that sacred bond.”

“Then no curtains,” Joonmyun says definitively and nods apologetically at the sales woman, walking from her as Baekhyun sighs and follows him. “My house and I say no stupid curtains.”

“That won’t be a problem when you want to sleep in?” Baekhyun asks, grabbing his arm and tugging him over as he looks to a display bin of pillows. “Aren’t you kind of supposed to have curtains?”

“I’ll get curtain’s later,” Joonmyun sighs, picking up a few pillows as Baekhyun grabs a few, tossing them gently. “They can come after I get-

“A new couch?” Baekhyun suggests, holding up the pillows in his hands to Joonmyun.

“Or something,” Joonmyun murmurs, barely looking at the pillows, giving a small nod before going back to his own perusal. “We got rid of a lot yesterday.”

“Time to fill it up then,” Baekhyun says, and pokes Joonmyun in the face with the edge of the cushion. Joonmyun shoves him away gently and he laughs, rocking back easily, nudging into Joonmyun’s side and Joonmyun grins despite himself. “See anything you like?”

“Do you?” Joonmyun asks without thinking and Baekhyun stills against his side. When Joonmyun looks to him, his bottom lip is sucked into his mouth, a small crease in his forehead. “Baekhyun?”

“It’s your apartment,” Baekhyun says, glancing at him quickly before looking back to the pillows in his hands. “Yours Joonmyun. Not yours and Jongin’s. Just yours. Choose what makes you happy.” He turns to look back, smiling gently before nudging him in the side with his elbow. “As long as it’s not blue.”

“It’s like you’ve developed a personal vendetta against blue,” Joonmyun muses, shaking his head as he turns, looking around the large store and over the variety of home items to furnish a space.

“Maybe I have,” Baekhyun poses with a raised brow, stepping up and nudging him again. “All the blue must go.”

“Poor blue,” Joonmyun says, shaking his head. “What did it ever do to you?”

“Heinous things,” Baekhyun hisses before turning abruptly and pulling Joonmyun over to a selection of chairs. After a lot of pestering and arguing over sizes and practicality, Joonmyun finally manages to decide on things. The same sales clerk trying to hide her amusement as Joonmyun, with the assistance of Baekhyun, goes and explains the things he will be purchasing. “You sound like some sort of aristocrat,” Baekhyun grumbles from beside him. “Peasant do this, peon do that.”

“I do not,” Joonmyun chides him calmly. “I sound like I am ordering furniture for my apartment.” Baekhyun scrunches up his face at him. “Peasant,” he adds and Baekhyun pinches him in the side, earning a pronounced wince that the saleswoman raises an eyebrow at. Baekhyun grins in triumph.

The next step, Joonmyun likes far less. “No,” he says as Baekhyun tries to drag him into the second hand shop and huffs at him. “Absolutely not.”

“Don't worry,” Baekhyun says, grabbing his hand again, fingers curling between his own firmly as he tugs insistently. “We donated all the blue to a different one.” Joonmyun has never been ‘thrifting’ as Baekhyun calls it. Picking through items that have been previously used and owned by another is a concept he mostly avoids when he can. “It’s fun,” Baekhyun tells him, poking about the random assortment of items. “You never know what hidden treasures you’ll find here.”

“I really don't think I’ll need an elephant lamp,” Joonmyun points out, gesturing to the object in question.

“I can actually hear _and_ see your sarcasm; it’s astounding,” Baekhyun tells him from where he’s spinning an old globe. “Be creative, Joonmyun.” Surprisingly, they end up finding a few things of interest at the thrift shop and by the time they get back to Joonmyun’s apartment, the items from the previous store have arrived. Setting them up, the space becomes smaller and Baekhyun grins brilliantly, flopping onto the black couch and throwing one of the new bright red pillows at him.

“This is better,” he muses, catching the pillow easily as Joonmyun throws it back at him. “I like it a lot more.” Joonmyun hums as he looks around, eyes sweeping over the newly added furniture. Added together, everything they bought today still isn’t as much as one of the suits they donated yesterday. Looking around, Joonmyun doesn’t entirely miss the suits.

“It’s different,” he admits, Baekhyun sitting up and running a hand through his brown hair. “It’s definitely different.”

Baekhyun looks at him, scooting over on the couch to make room for him. “Better?”

Joonmyun looks at Baekhyun, sitting on his couch and watching him, expression open and waiting. Joonmyun looks at Baekhyun surrounded by new vibrant colors and in a space that seems too large and thinks of the fill of blue and Jongin. Joonmyun looks at Baekhyun and sees, for a brief moment, Jongin sitting and stretched out on the same couch, notebook of material to be edited in his lap. But he’s faded around the edges and vague and Joonmyun frowns, the image fading as Baekhyun’s expression falters.

“Stop,” Baekhyun says quietly, standing up and walking from the couch, pillow dropping from his grip as he gently reaches up to lay his hands on Joonmyun’s shoulders. He leans in, close and looking at him hard. “Joonmyun, I know where you just went.”

Joonmyun knows Baekhyun knows. “I can’t help it.”

Baekhyun doesn’t say anything, and Joonmyun’s eyes are closed, the feeling of Baekhyun’s hands heavy on his shoulders, pressing into him firmly. “That’s what I’m here for,” Baekhyun says, shaking Joonmyun gently.

Joonmyun lets out a soft mix between a laugh and a sigh. “To take down my curtains?”

Baekhyun laughs softly. “Yeah,” he says, fingers squeezing gently. “Among other things.”

Before he leaves, Baekhyun shoves a small leather notebook, the cover smooth and soft in his hands and tied with a strip of leather. It looks new, the leather clipped and the pages heavy. On the front page is written ‘Guesses: What is it?’ and below are two entries. 1. Narwhal. 2. Wonky Buffalo. “For the painting,” Baekhyun explains with a soft smile as Joonmyun looks at the book in his hands and doesn’t quite know what to say. “You can get a number of people all guessing, trying to figure out what it is as they stop by and bring more shit to your apartment. You can find out maybe through process of elimination what it is by the end.”

Over the next two weeks, Joonmyun’s apartment earns a variety of new and interesting items, Baekhyun stopping by multiple times, once with a lamp, and another time with a giant bag of pillows he immediately hurled onto Joonmyun’s bed yelling “Be Free!” and telling Joonmyun it was to compensate for how unacceptably huge his bed is.

Kyungsoo stops by, adds an entry into the ‘Guesses’ book reading _#3. You’re both idiots, it’s clearly an antelope_ and giving Joonmyun a large picture print of a lighthouse.

“A lighthouse?” Joonmyun asked, looking at the large photograph and squinting at it.

“All you had before was random abstract blue splotches and black geometric figures,” Kyungsoo says. “Just thank me and appreciate my generosity for assisting you in proper appreciation for art, considering your own taste are unidentifiable animals.”

Slowly, as things begin to accumulate and Joonmyun settles into the basic flow of the workday, things settling into their typical ebb and flow. Following the Hong Kong trip and business expansion, the apartment that had been ripped apart and laid bare begins to feel a bit more like a home.

“I like it,” Kyuhyun says, sitting in one of the new chairs, red and plush, placed beside the black couch now adorned with red and gray cushions. “It fits you more, and feels more comfortable.”

“It wasn’t before?” Joonmyun asks, frowning over his drink at his friend. His mind flashes to the things bought with Jongin, purchased after Joonmyun asked and received a simple nod or a press of lips together. The furniture all crafted into simplistic balance and complimenting features, fitting and fixing in acceptable compliance and organized for relaxation and practically. It was bought with the organized simplicity of Jongin in mind, the quiet colors and patterns to match the person.

“It was different before,” Kyuhyun muses, lounging a bit as he looks around with a small frown. “Before it was also thoughtfully picked out but it wasn’t like this. This is spontaneous selection and it’s like parts of you that you don’t see are being chosen. It just fits you more.” He smiles as he looks over. “It’s not that before was bad.“

“This is just different,” Joonmyun finishes, his eyes drifting from Kyuhyun to the rest of the room, sliding over the new items from his friends and the feeling it brings the area overall.

“Yeah,” Kyuhyun agrees, settling back into the chair and sighing. “It is.” His eyes fit on the large painting in the center of the wall opposite. “Though I still have no idea what to call that thing.”

The narwhal-wonky-buffalo-antelope-penguin looks back at them from the wall, trotting or moving across the canvas amid a variety of colors and lines. “Modern art?” Joonmyun suggests, glancing over at his friend.

“That will have to do for now,” Kyuhyun says, letting out a laugh. He settles back with a sigh, Joonmyun simply smiling as he takes in his living room. It really does look nice, slightly chaotic, but nice. It’s all things that have been brought, chosen with thought, time and care, and much of it things Joonmyun hasn’t even seen before, instead brought by others. But it fits, each item bearing a new memory, a new association, and it’s more than just Jongin and Joonmyun.

It’s Joonmyun and his life.

The painting on the wall by the television paired with the lighthouse print from Kyungsoo. The small side table beside the couch a gift from Donghae that he had found and immediately thought of Joonmyun because it had special compartments for coasters and a sectioned area for a mini book storage space. The large number of pillows and cushions all thrown about courtesy of Baekhyun and his never-ending enjoyment of adding splashes of random to the space. The windows still bare of curtains but lined now with small plants, some herbs and other simple and pretty flowers from Jongdae. Kyungsoo had also given him a cactus with the very disconcerting threat of “don’t kill it or I’ll poison you.”

There is a bit of everything, space still holding nothing and it’s not the same, the original order and patterned perfection of everything gone. There are still holes, parts missing and the most prominent one is still the one in the form of a tall young man, strong and kind with slightly shy humility. He can still feel the space where Jongin used to fit, the hole that is Jongin sized still not filled even if there are things trying to fill it up.

They don’t fit, not exactly like a perfect puzzle piece. The chairs, the throws and pillows and vibrant colors aren’t unpleasant, but they’re not Jongin. The folder tucked into his desk drawers stares at him as Joonmyun opens it later, after bidding Kyuhyun good night and laughing over some joke. It’s still there, even after the insane scouring the apartment had undergone. 

He’s been ignoring it ever since it was delivered a few days before Hong Kong, Joonmyun shoving it into his desk and under papers, not ready to read through it yet. It’s been almost a month and he’s still not ready, his fingers lingering at the edge of the stiff paper, poised to flip it open but never doing so. The face of a man he’s never met but only seen, the name he frowns at along with the defined bone structure and the wide pleasant smile stretched under deep eyes. Joonmyun can’t open it, holding it still in his hands and after all this time, he can’t look into this man’s life.

He didn’t take Jongin. But Joonmyun still can’t get rid of the unpleasant notion that he’s the main reason Jongin still isn’t here with him.

Even now, he wonders if Jongin would slip back in seamlessly if he returns, the space changed and altered and torn apart, still not yet put together. Filled with others laughter and voices and gifts that Joonmyun didn’t give, is it even possible for Jongin to step back into his empty space and fill it up completely again? Joonmyun wonders what Jongin will say when he sees the apartment, their once home, changed, altered and moved, filled with unfamiliar things and memories he never was there for. Joonmyun wonders if Jongin would like it or stare at him and ask him what on earth he was thinking. He wonders if Jongin would smile or laugh or frown or nod and hum, looking around, eyes sliding over the furniture and questioning their origin.

He wonders what Jongin will guess the painting is.

Slipping into bed that night, alarm set for the next morning, Joonmyun wonders if Jongin can fit beside him amid all the pillows Baekhyun shoved there to make the large empty space less noticeable. Baekhyun had grinned at him before jumping back onto the bed and demonstrated just how glorious his idea was before bounding up and shoving Joonmyun to experience it himself.

Joonmyun wonders if Jongin will fit back easily into his life, take up all the spaces he left, waiting for him even if other things have begun to occupy them. As lights wink outside his windows, casting faint light over the room and the city spans below him in a stretch of life, Joonmyun wonders if it’s possible for someone else to fit there when all the angles are wrong.

-

The soft knock at his office door has Joonmyun looking up, face brightening in expectation as the door opens and Donghae pokes his head in. “Hey,” he says sheepishly as Joonmyun smiles and immediately puts aside the document he’d been reviewing on finances. “Are you busy?”

Joonmyun shakes his head, standing and gesturing for Donghae to come in. “Not particularly,” he says, slipping his hands into his pockets. He could use a break anyway.

Donghae gives him a side look. “You’re always busy.”

“Not for friends,” Joonmyun says with a laugh. A year ago, Joonmyun would have rescheduled, told Donghae he was sorry but had a report and he would find him later. But after three months of running around and being hauled about and constantly insulted by another’s spontaneity, Joonmyun is a little less married to his work than he once was.

Donghae laughs, shaking his head. “Wow, you have changed.”

“I hope that’s a good thing,” Joonmyun comments, as Donghae smiles and scratches at his neck. “Otherwise I’ll really have to keep my eye out for Lu Han and his constant usurping comments.”

“Lu Han’s not really going to steal the company,” Donghae chuckles, eyeing him.

“He’s a sneaky person,” Joonmyun points out. “I would never put anything past Lu Han.” Donghae just laughs. “What can I do for you?”

“See, here’s the thing,” Donghae says, sighing and rubbing his forehead. “I got tickets for this concert about a month ago, they were complimentary with some deal I was purchasing at the time.”

Joonmyun hears a ‘but’ in there and frowns, confused as to where this is going. “But?” he prompts, watching Donghae closely.

“But, I completely forgot I have a family gathering the same weekend,” Donghae explains. “The whole family is going to Japan for a trip and I completely spaced. So, I was wondering-“

Joonmyun knows. He knows almost instantly and it shocks him a little that of all people, Donghae is offering _him_ the concert tickets. “Are you sure?” he asks. He’d never really considered himself Donghae’s closest friend nor the person he would generously give to for no reason. Donghae just shrugs and grins, holding out an envelope containing tickets to a performance this coming Friday.

“Of course,” Donghae says, laughing at him. “Do you not want them? I can try to ask someone else but I figured you’d appreciate them the most. I know how much you like that kind of music.” He smiles. “There’s two in there. I was originally hoping to ask Taeyeon from the front if she’d like to go but you can in my stead.” He grins and Joonmyun lets out a chuckle.

“I’ll think about it,” he tells Donghae as the other shrugs.

“Or you can ask Baekhyun,” Donghae adds and Joonmyun pauses. “You spend so much time together anyway, I’m sure you two would enjoy this together.”

A few months ago, it would have been automatic to assume that Joonmyun would go with Jongin, the two well dressed and properly sitting in their seats. They would be making small quiet conversation and trading soft smiles. A few months ago, that was second nature. Now it isn’t the case.

“Do I really spend a lot of time time with Baekhyun?” Joonmyun muses, finger tips steepled against his mouth and Kyungsoo pauses as he drops off the afternoon coffee.

“What is your definition of a lot of time?” Kyungsoo asks, putting down the coffee before folding his arms over his chest. His stance is calm and casual but he is listening and watching Joonmyun intently.

Joonmyun blinks not entirely sure if Kyungsoo is implying that Joonmyun does or does not spend significant amounts of time with Baekhyun. Overall, he figures he spends a relative amount of time with all his friends, a rather nice shift from the previous habit of spending more time with work than the people in his life. Though he has been settling back into work nicely, he stopped taking the long breaks and leaving early or staying until far too late. It’s become a bit more balanced. “More time than one would consider normal for me?” Joonmyun tries, sitting back in his office chair and looking up at his friend.

“Yes,” Kyungsoo says immediately, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he watches Joonmyun still and look up at him with a small frown. “You do.”

“I-“ Joonmyun isn't quite sure how to respond to this. He shifts, looking up to Kyungsoo and trying to figure out a response to the smiling man before him.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Kyungsoo says, still smiling as if Joonmyun is severely amusing to him. “I like Baekhyun. I think he’s good for you.” He pauses, eyes narrowing slightly. “Why?”

Two concert tickets for this Friday sit on Joonmyun’s desk, his phone beside them, waiting for him to pick up and call someone to go with him and, if truth be told, his mind does go to Baekhyun almost immediately. “I just-“

“He likes spending time with you too,” Kyungsoo says, easily slipping in between Joonmyun’s words and having them fade on his tongue. “He does. He likes you, Joonmyun, and enjoys spending time with you just as much as you do him.”

Somehow, though Joonmyun knows it shouldn’t, this surprises him slightly. He likes spending time with Baekhyun, the other man somehow having become such an integral part of his life in just a short time, his mannerisms and impulsive attitudes, strong opinions and speech patterns a part of Joonmyun’s world. While Joonmyun initially hadn’t quite known what to think of him, he finds himself calling up Baekhyun just as much as the other calls him. Going out for lunch, grabbing coffee, sitting for a few hours and just talking, Baekhyun dragging him here and there and jumping random stuff on him that just have him laughing now as the other man grins in amusement, eyes curving up to crescents.

“Donghae gave me tickets for a concert this weekend,” Joonmyun explains, though it really isn’t as much of an explanation as a distraction from Kyungsoo watching him so intently.

Kyungsoo smiles, his eyes warming and it catches Joonmyun off guard. “I think Baekhyun would be delighted to go with you,” he says, before picking up one of the completed reports on the desk and shuffling it into a neat stack of papers. “You should call him and make sure he can join you.”

The door has clicked shut for a good twenty minutes before Joonmyun finally picks up his phone, quickly scrolling to his contacts and presses the call button. It connects after two rings. “I’m in the middle of pricing calendars, are you dying?”

Joonmyun laughs, the strange unfamiliar nervousness that seems to have crept into him vanishing instantly. “No,” he says, smiling as he leans back in his chair, absently tapping the envelope of tickets on his desk. “I am not dying.”

“I only take calls of those on the shores of peril,” Baekhyun grumbles and he can hear someone else talking in the background. Baekhyun sighs, voice directed away from the phone, muttering something about ‘not until Thursday’ before he’s saying “What’s up?”

“There’s a concert this Friday I managed I just landed tickets for,” Joonmyun says, spinning slightly in his chair. “I was wondering if you’d like to go with me.”

There is a pause on the other end and Joonmyun wets his lips as he waits for Baekhyun to answer. “This Friday?” he finally asks, coughing slightly. Joonmyun hums in answer. “What kind of music?”

“It’s a classical mix,” Joonmyun says, frowning at the tickets himself. He’s not entirely sure himself as he reads ‘Modern Classical Experience’ and tries to figure what that means. “I’m not actually sure. Donghae just gave me the tickets and I thought I’d ask if you wanted to go with me. You don’t have to, I just thought I’d ask.”

Baekhyun hums, the sound low and soft through the phone as Joonmyun taps his fingers on the envelope. “On one condition,” Baekhyun says and Joonmyun waits. “That if it sucks, we make fun of it relentlessly.”

Joonmyun laughs.

When they had first dated, Joonmyun would take out Jongin to concerts. Jongin fit perfectly into formal clothing, hair brushed back into perfection and the perfect lines of his figure filling out the suit where Joonmyun always felt his required too much tailoring. He would smile, holding a suave elegance and sit straight, eyes on the stage and soft concentrated look on his face, quietly speaking with Joonmyun during breaks in the music. They would listen to anything, classical, jazz, opera, sometimes going to plays and quietly commenting together. Jongin was never extremely expressive, siting appropriately beside Joonmyun in calm appreciation.

“How do I look?” Baekhyun asks, stepping up and giving a small shrug, hands in the pockets of black slacks, a white collared shirt and suit jacket hanging about his shoulders. His hair is styled off his face and he’s smiling, an edge of nonchalance there that he seems to inherently carry as part of himself. Baekhyun looks clean and refined. Joonmyun, standing outside the theater, early and tickets in his pockets, can’t help but stare a little. Baekhyun looks proper, clothing neat and formal; he looks perfect.

“Great,” Joonmyun says, eyes sweeping up the other man before finally meeting his eyes. They’re crinkled in amusement and even if Baekhyun is styled and dressed up in a suit, somehow it doesn’t remove the fact that he’s still Baekhyun. He makes fun of everything, points out that which people want to keep hidden, and acts because he can. “You look great, Baekhyun.”

The grin flashed to him is just as brilliant as always. “You don't look too bad yourself,” Baekhyun says, walking up to step beside Joonmyun, sides nearly brushing as they both walk into the theater. “Did you get all dressed up on my account? I’m flattered.”

“Naturally,” Joonmyun says with a chuckle. “What other reason would I have for wearing a suit today?”

“Haven’t the faintest idea.” Baekhyun sighs dramatically.

Their seats are in the balcony, front row and with an excellent view of the stage. Joonmyun vaguely wonders how much they cost before Baekhyun drags him into conversation about his week, what he’s been up to and how he’s been, telling him stories of his shop adventures and how Sehun is hopeless.

“I feel like I need to meet this Sehun one day,” Joonmyun says, laughing at yet another story.

“Trust me,” Baekhyun says, leaning forward and tapping Joonmyun on the knee as if telling him covert information. “The most interesting part about Sehun is his face. Other than that, he’s just a ridiculous human being.”

“Like you?”

“I’m different,” Baekhyun says with a grin. “I’m special.”

Joonmyun is used to sitting in performances quietly, Jongin beside him watching, occasionally asking for the program or making a soft comment. He is used to sitting, watching and listening, hands still in his lap and back resting straight against the seat. But not today. Today, Joonmyun is with Baekhyun, who moves along with the music, asking Joonmyun nonstop questions and making comments about the musicians and the music itself. He points out information in the program and, in some pieces, dramatically gesturing along with the crescendos and the flow of the piece.

It’s the first time Joonmyun has laughed during a concert, stifling the sound with a hand over his mouth as his stomach hurts. Baekhyun practically beams beside him, eyes dancing as he continues to mock conduct, hands waving wildly in the air. It’s inappropriate, it’s not accepted, but it’s Baekhyun, and somehow that makes it an exception. It’s the first time Joonmyun has sat through a performance and paid attention to something other than the stage, the first time it feels like he’s both engaging and enjoying. It’s the first time he’s feel truly, elatedly happy in a long time.

“That was fun,” Baekhyun says, grinning as they sit, a coffee each in their hands and Baekhyun’s tie hanging loose from an unbuttoned collar. His knee bumps against Joonmyun’s under the table. “Thank you for asking me.”

“Of course,” Joonmyun says, bumping back and grinning as well, reaching forward with a hand to grasp Baekhyun’s over the table, squeezing gently. Baekhyun’s hand is smaller, fitting around the same as his in size and warm, skin soft. “I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else here with me tonight.”

Baekhyun wets his lips, hand turning under Joonmyun’s slowly, as his free fingers tap along the side of his coffee cup. “No one?” he asks, the rhythm against the cup faltering slightly as his fingers brush against Joonmyun’s palm.

“Nope,” Joonmyun says, smiling earnestly. “Tonight was really fun.” He smiles, wrapping his fingers around Baekhyun’s hand fully and squeezing again to confirm before finally letting go, leaning back and letting his hand drift from Baekhyun’s to lay over the table instead. “I’m glad you didn’t have plans.” He pauses, lips pressing together as he looks at Baekhyun. “What about your friends?”

The small frown of confusion spreads quickly, shifting the look before Baekhyun is staring at him with his head cocked to the side. “What about them?”

“I just-“ This is something Joonmyun has considered for a while. He hears about them, Baekhyun mentioning the other people in his life on occasion just as Joonmyun talks about his own friends and coworkers. He knows a little about them, but as of yet hasn’t met any of them. “I haven’t met any of your friends yet.” Baekhyun’s frown shifts and Joonmyun shrugs, sitting up a bit straighter. “You met my friends, I think it’s only fair I meet some of yours.”

“You just want to find out if Sehun is actually a giant walking mess,” Baekhyun says, face splitting into a grin.

Just like that, everything falls into place again.

“Absolutely,” Joonmyun says, grinning back just as wide.

The space of Joonmyun’s apartment welcomes him home, the lights of the city stretching in an array of color and vitality, the night sky clear and he slips the tie from his neck with a sigh, flopping onto the couch easily. Head resting against one of the pillows that is patterned in what he supposes are fireworks, Joonmyun smiles. He’s not tired, even if it is late and he should go to bed, the next week packed with activity and work. The weekend offers only a short break before the rush of the week again, but he finds himself enjoying it more than he has countless others before.

Reaching out to the coffee table, he picks up the leather bound book, flipping to the front page and reading down the list of entries. One; narwhal. Two; wonky buffalo. Three; you’re both idiots. It’s clearly an antelope. Four; penguin? Five; Mouse or Go home. Six; Dinosaur. Seven; cow. Eight; liger. Nine; Hippo!

Joonmyun smiles, fingers tracing over the entries, each written in a different hand and holding a different person, a different memory with the scrawl of ink. He wonders if he’ll ever figure out what it was that the artist actually painted, the giant picture hanging opposite him and standing out in dramatic contrast from the usual clean order and simplistic monotony that had ruled his life for so long. He looks at the painting, and remembers hanging it, grunting at the weight as Baekhyun snapped at him to hoist it higher, Kyungsoo barking at them both to shift to the right.

The couch that Baekhyun demanded be reupholstered, the entertainment center, missing movies and CD’s that Joonmyun never watched and which he never bought for himself sit in the room now. The lamps he had argued over an hour about with Baekhyun, telling him he didn’t need them before going back twenty minutes later after walking away and purchasing them. Baekhyun had prodded him in the side chanting “impractical huh? Enough illumination, being the CEO of company that works with lights, huh?” before Joonmyun had slapped him in the shoulder and sent him into a fit of laughter.

The bed doesn’t feel too large, sheets of white spread and hidden under pillows and Joonmyun sighs, slipping to sleep as he lies on his back and relaxes.

Blue is supposed to be a calming color, cool and gentle and soothing. But in a sea of mixing colors and shades of everything, Joonmyun feels more relaxed than he has in a very, very long time.

-

The boy standing before him, taller than Joonmyun might have imagined, has a face that could scare. He’s wearing a white graphic tee, backwards cap, and has bleached hair with purple highlights. The small store apron around his waist accentuates how thin it is and how long his torso is. He looks entirely annoyed by everything as he looks Joonmyun up and down.

“Hello,” Joonmyun says, holding out his hand to the youth and appearing as friendly as he can. “You’re Sehun, right?”

“And what if I am?” the young man says, turning his head to the side so his gaze pierces just a bit more, hands resolutely on his hips rather than returning the gesture of friendship.

“Shut up, brat, and introduce yourself,” Baekhyun says, walking from the back and immediately swatting his young employee on the ass. Sehun, or who Joonmyun assumes is Sehun, yelps and immediately clutches at his behind, glowering a pout at his boss. “Hey,” Baekhyun says, grinning at Joonmyun as he steps up to the register.

“I could accuse you of abusive treatment of your employees,” Sehun snaps, glaring at Baekhyun, though the effect is somewhat ruined by the jut of lower his lip and the slight slouch. “Put you in jail or something.”

“That’d put you out of a job,” Baekhyun says as Joonmyun watches the exchange. Somehow, this is exactly as he imagined it. “And then who would give you money to go waste at arcades for hours.” Sehun seems a bit put out but this, his frown interrupted by a small pink tongue poking between his lips. Baekhyun huffs, a small smile tugging at his lips as he shoves sheet of stickers at the younger man and a pen. “Go price magnets,” he says, nodding off into the shop.

“You price your own magnets,” Sehun grumbles, slumping off through the shop with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

“What was that?” Baekhyun calls after him, tone sharp and loud.

“Hot dog sandwich!” Sehun yelps from half way across the shop and Baekhyun grins, turning to Joonmyun. 

“Introducing the most useless employee ever,” he says, gesturing widely in the direction Sehun has just disappeared to. “Sehun, also known as ‘Flower Power Baby’-“ A loud protesting yell echoes through the shop and Baekhyun’s grin widens. “And silliest boy alive.”

“I get you coffee!” Sehun shouts from somewhere as he prices magnets.

“Lovely,” Joonmyun says, smiling back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stop by when you were-“

Baekhyun waves a hand, quickly quieting him. “No, I’ve had a long morning,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “I could use a good break. I had some punks come in earlier trying to make off with a ton of stuff. I’d love to wind down for a bit.”

Joonmyun winces. He doesn’t think of it too often, the real differences in his life and Baekhyun’s. Every morning, Joonmyun wakes up, puts on a suit, and goes to work to sit behind a desk and run a company, take care of hundreds of people and servicing thousands, if not millions of clients. Baekhyun wakes up and comes to work at a small trinket shop, working his own numbers and inventory and everything. They both run their own business, but the contrast is stark.

“Stop thinking so hard, it ruins your face,” Baekhyun says, throwing an arm over Joonmyun’s shoulders and pulling him in close. “Are you going to look around to just stand there staring at me the whole time?”

Joonmyun shakes himself, blinking at the smirk on Baekhyun’s face before letting out a soft laugh. “Give me a tour,” he suggests and Baekhyun is immediately marching around, rambling about his merchandise and explaining which is better or not or why they have so many stuffed animals. “Children always want more of them,” Baekhyun explains. “For them, stuffed animals are like the jelly beans of non-edible items. They just want them all and get grabby hands.”

Sehun is sitting on the floor, stickers everywhere and his hat tipped up a bit, sitting awkwardly on his head. He looks up at them with his tongue sticking out when they walk by. On second viewing, now that Joonmyun has gotten over his height and defined features, he can see what Baekhyun means on the rare occasion he refers to the younger as ‘cute’. “How’s it going, Sehun?” Baekhyun asks, toeing Sehun in the knee.

“I’ll be done soon,” Sehun says, looking back down at his stickers all written with a very scribbly price and a few of them with smiley faces. “Are we closing up early so you can go and have fun with yo-“

Baekhyun grabs Sehun’s hat from his head, cutting Sehun off mid sentence as he yelps and reaches immediately for it, Baekhyun laughing and ruffling his hair. “Yeah, we’re finishing up earlier today,” he answers, sticking a price sticker to Sehun’s forehead as the younger man frowns up at him. “Then you can go and get bubble tea or whatever.”

“I don’t always drink bubble tea,” Sehun grumbles, still reaching up for his hat.

“I forgot,” Baekhyun says, dramatically smacking himself in the forehead before turning to Joonmyun who had been watching the whole exchange with amusement. “Sehun has dramatically matured and now drinks Americano’s only,” he tells Joonmyun authoritatively, nodding a bit as Sehun’s frown deepens. “So sorry, Sehunnie. How could I forget your staggering launch into propriety and manliness?”

“Can I have my hat back now?” Sehun mumbles dejectedly from the floor and Baekhyun laughs, fixing it back on his employee’s head easily.

“He’s cute,” Joonmyun comments when they return to the register, Baekhyun stepping behind and sifting through the cash drawer.

Baekhyun glances up at him as he sorts through the cash drawer. “He’s Sehun,” he says, a soft affectionate smile on his lips that isn’t often seen. “He’s a good kid, even if he is a pain in the ass.”

“I’m awesome,” Sehun counters, walking up and sliding behind the counter to grin a bit at Joonmyun.

“Whatever, flower power,” Baekhyun says, slamming the register closed and shoving Sehun. “Go play or something.”

They end up in the same sandwich shop Baekhyun had taken them to all those weeks ago, Baekhyun walking in and yelling a greeting to the man behind the counter who greets it just as happily. “You must really love those pickles,” Joonmyun says with a smile as the man at the counter grins and leans towards them, elbows braced on the surface.

“Pickles are serious business,” Baekhyun says with a reverent nod.

“That’s why I sell them,” the man behind the counter says, flashing them both a grin. “The usual?” he asks, eyes on Baekhyun.

“I’m thinking,” Baekhyun tells him, throwing him a pointed look and earns a crinkling of eyes. The last time they were here, there were a few more people in the shop, milling about, the man behind the counter smiling but not talking much. Today, there are few in the shop and he and Baekhyun are chatting as Baekhyun reviews orders and somehow Joonmyun finds his smile faltering.

“Discount?” Baekhyun asks, a small tilt of his head towards the man at the counter.

“You already get unlimited chips and pickles,” the man laughs, stepping back and shaking brown bangs from his face. “No more discounts, Baekhyun.”

“You’re no fun,” Baekhyun pouts.

“You’d make me broke,” the man laughs. Baekhyun orders what he apparently gets every time, what the other man has memorized with a smile in his eyes and Joonmyun gets what he isn’t sure if he got last time or not. “I’ll bring them over,” the man says, waving them off after Baekhyun has folded his fingers over Joonmyun’s hand, pushing it away from paying.

“Do you know everyone you get discounts from?” Joonmyun asks as they take a seat at one of the plastic tables, Baekhyun stretching slightly.

“Some of them,” Baekhyun muses. “But Yixing’s a friend. He’s different.”

_Friend._

Joonmyun had asked to meet Baekhyun’s friends. So far, he knows Sehun and he knows Minseok, the man at the café Baekhyun has dragged him to a few times now. He knows Baekhyun is friends with a martial arts instructor and has a few other friends scattered here and there. The more of his friends he meets, the more Joonmyun wonders how long they’ve known Baekhyun, if he shines in their lives the same way he has done since he stepped into Joonmyun’s.

“Ten pickles,” Yixing, the sandwich man says, setting down three baskets and pulling up an extra chair for himself.

“You remembered,” Baekhyun says emphatically, leaning back and looking at Yixing aghast, to which he earns a laugh.

“Of course I remembered,” Yixing says, shoving Baekhyun lightly and immediately Baekhyun reaches up, as if to grab his neck but earns a slap. Joonmyun half expects Baekhyun to frown and try again but instead he just grins and drops back, picking up a pickle and taking a bite, turning instead to look at Joonmyun.

“Yixing has the memory of a gold fish,” Baekhyun says as Yixing sighs.

“Baekhyun exaggerates,” Yixing says, folding his arms loosely over his chest.

“Baekhyun speaks the truth,” the brunette counters, gesturing to Yixing with a pickle. “Seriously, he forgets everything. It’s a miracle he doesn’t forget his sandwich recipes.”

“I remember the important things,” Yixing says, smiling gently at Baekhyun as Joonmyun takes a bite of his sandwich, trying to push down the slightly unsettled feeling in his stomach.

“How do you two know each other?” Joonmyun asks, swallowing swiftly around his sandwich and looking between Yixing and Baekhyun who seem to communicate half in words and half in amused glances and gestures. It puts him off.

“We’ve been friends for a long time,” Baekhyun says, tapping his pickle to his sandwich basket as Yixing watches him, quietly letting Baekhyun talk. “Met a while ago and just…“ He pauses, glancing to Yixing before his eyes fall to his sandwich. “I dunno, we just have been friends forever. I think I’ve known you longer than I’ve known most people here.”

“Am I supposed to be flattered?” Yixing asks with a small laugh, tilting back in his chair slightly. 

“Yes,” Baekhyun says, grinning at him and something flares in Joonmyun’s chest, his smile tightening. “Anyway,” Baekhyun continues, looking back at Joonmyun. “Yixing, this is Joonmyun.” Yixing smiles pleasantly and holds out a hand. It’s small and has delicate fingers. It reminds Joonmyun a little of Baekhyun’s hands, though Baekhyun’s hands have more elegance. It’s a gentle shake, calmer and more grounded.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Yixing says with a smile and Joonmyun notices a dimple pressing into his cheek. “It’s nice to finally meet you after hearing so much about you.” Joonmyun’s eyes flash to Baekhyun briefly. Baekhyun is currently very occupied with his sandwich and when Joonmyun looks back to Yixing, he’s watching Baekhyun with an amused and slightly affectionate smile on his face.

Joonmyun is not one to think of initially disliking someone without cause. The exception to this he only sees currently with the man whose folder is resting in his desk drawer, whose face grins in handsome confidence and who Joonmyun wonders is part of the reason he’s alone right now. But there has never been a time before that Joonmyun has had where upon first meeting someone, he felt an initial irritation, dislike, and aversion to them. He trusts Baekhyun, his judge of character far more reliable than others he knows. He doesn’t think Baekhyun would be friends with someone unkind or indecent.

Despite that, Joonmyun can’t get rid of the initial knee jerk reaction he has to Yixing. Yixing is friendly, kind, gentle and extremely generous, going as far as to give them extra drinks after Baekhyun pointed out both of them might perhaps become dehydrated. He laughs and teases, is witty and playful, a sweetness about his jokes that counters Baekhyun’s brash and blunt commentary. They both laugh together, seeming to have jokes and looks that trade and mean something to them and Joonmyun feels left out. He feels like he doesn’t understand, can’t be included, and it irritates him.

He can’t explain why, but he doesn’t like him. He doesn’t like Yixing and there is no reason for it, and that, above all, irritates him the most. There is no reason for him to dislike Yixing, and yet he does.

“It was great to finally meet you,” Yixing says, smiling brightly as he sees Baekhyun and Joonmyun to the door and waves them off, sandwiches finished and Baekhyun munching on one last pickle. His eyes are barely visible from his smile as he looks to Joonmyun. “I hope to see you more in the future.”

Joonmyun’s smile is tight as he returns it. “Likewise,” he says and tries to shove down the crawl at the center of his hands that he can’t seem to shake.

Baekhyun rambles about something to do with sailboats for a while, walking along with Joonmyun for the next few minutes as Joonmyun tries to sort through his thoughts. He was the one who had suggested he meet Baekhyun’s friends, the one who had initially introduced Baekhyun to his friends. He is the reason Baekhyun and Kyungsoo now get together almost weekly to go play pool. Joonmyun wanted to know more about Baekhyun, find out more about him, and meet those important in his life. It made sense.

But now that he’s doing it, a part of him fees like he’s trespassing. It’s like he’s walking into a place he doesn’t belong, stepping into Baekhyun’s world of people who know him better than Joonmyun does, understand him better, and mean more to him. He doesn’t have the ease of communication and time that Baekhyun and Yixing have.

“Here,” Baekhyun says, pulling Joonmyun from his thoughts as they stop.

Looking up, Joonmyun is very easily shaken from his thoughts. “Is that a-“

“Horse, yep,” Baekhyun says, nodding and throwing an arm around Joonmyun’s shoulders and leaning close. “That is a horse.”

Before them is a large carriage, the kind seen traveling around the city with couples or tour groups, horses clopping along and looking completely disinterested. A man in a top hat that looks equally bored at the prospect of leading the horse around on a familiar route both have memorized. Joonmyun turns to Baekhyun. “You can’t be serious,” he says, staring at the other grinning man.

“Oh, but I am,” Baekhyun answers, leaning closer, side pressed flush to Joonmyun as the late afternoon sun bleeds into evening. The light casts the city to a glow, brilliant yellows and oranges exploding against buildings and flashes behind Baekhyun. “When was the last time you rode in a horse and carriage?” he asks, close. Baekhyun is very close.

“Never?” Joonmyun ventures to answer and Baekhyun scoffs.

“Well, it’s high time we remedy that,” Baekhyun says, dragging Joonmyun with himself forward and throwing a delighted look at the coachman. Joonmyun ends up sitting down in a red leather seat, positioned high off the ground with Baekhyun flopping beside him and looking exhilarated as the carriage lurches forward and the horse begins its trek about the city.

“This is ridiculous,” Joonmyun sighs, looking at Baekhyun as the distinct odor of what he’s pretty sure is farm smell wafts over them. Joonmyun is still wearing his suit from the business meeting that let out early that day. Baekhyun is wearing a collared shirt and wash jeans, his smile radiant.

“Of course it is,” Baekhyun says, pressing into his side as he looks around the city about them. “That’s why we’re doing it.”

And somehow, in Baekhyun logic, this makes perfect sense. That riding around a city they both know in a horse and carriage is exactly what they should do on a Friday evening, having just had sandwiches and doing who knows what later. He sighs, settling back as Baekhyun turns and immediately presses beside him, shuffling a bit until they’re pressed close, shoulder to shoulder and sides touching. He angles his head to the side, grinning at Joonmyun and slaps him on his thighs. “It’s fun,” he says, patting Joonmyun gently and pressing close. Joonmyun tries to fight down the stupid smile that wants to spread over his face. “Who knows, the horse may even just start pooping.”

“If that horse starts pooping, we are getting out,” Joonmyun says sternly, reaching over and flicking Baekhyun in the forehead. Baekhyun slaps his hand away. “I swear, Baekhyun.”

“Swear on what?” Baekhyun prompts, grabbing Joonmyun’s hand and holding it. It’s simple, a gesture he’s done before, has been doing for a while, since they became more comfortable together and Joonmyun realized he was seeing Baekhyun at least two times a week. His mouth twitches in familiar mischief.

“My carpet,” Joonmyun says absently, casting around for anything and fixing on it.

Baekhyun’s face falls slightly, his eyes narrowing as he seems to recall. “The blue one?”

The only blue thing left in Joonmyun’s apartment. The only thing left he had purchased with Jongin in mind, the only thing left that holds Jongin aside from the space that still exists in a limbo between being filled and remaining vacant. Joonmyun still thinks about him, still wonders, still considers. He still hopes. “Yeah,” he says, voice softer. “That one.”

Baekhyun’s thumb rubs over the back of Joonmyun’s hand softly. “Well, I kind of hope the horse starts pooping then,” he says and Joonmyun can’t stop the laugh that bursts from him, odd in how unrestricted it is. The comment wasn’t even that funny, mostly vulgar and unplanned but somehow it has Joonmyun laughing hard, nearly to the point of crying as Baekhyun grins, watching him try to get control of himself. “It’s nice to hear you laugh,” he says as Joonmyun finally gets control of himself and settles back, looking around the city, the carriage rocking gently.

Joonmyun sighs, breathing in the comfort of the moment and looking around them. Baekhyun does have a point, the city looking different when not viewed from the inside of a bus or a car, the open air of the carriage putting the whole place in a different light. Even if everything does smell faintly like a farm, it makes the metropolitan area seem just a bit softer, nicer. Baekhyun’s hand is warm in his as he turns to look back at him. He opens his mouth to say something and instead tumbles out “How long have you known Yixing?”

It’s not intentional, and he nearly takes it back when Baekhyun’s face widens in surprise, he himself shifting back a bit. But he can’t take back the question. Joonmyun can only wait for Baekhyun to answer or not.

“We’ve been friends since university,” he begins, turning and looking over the city instead of at Joonmyun, taking his hand back to cross his arms over his chest. “We met because of like interests and then just ended getting really close. He’s-“ Baekhyun pauses, chewing his lip briefly. “I’ve known him for a really long time.”

“I can tell,” Joonmyun says, the irritation back. He wishes he hadn’t brought it up, that the question hadn’t slipped past him. He was better off not knowing. “You seem really close,” Joonmyun continues. It feels horrible in many ways, digging for more information, Baekhyun continuing to talk about this while it irritates Joonmyun but in a weird way he can’t stop. He wants to know. “You two really know a lot about each other. And are very-“ Affectionate. He doesn’t say it, but it lingers there. He watches the back of the coachman’s head instead, the feather plume on his hat bouncing slightly.

“Well.” Baekhyun makes a small sound, as if slightly hesitant to continue and Joonmyun looks at him, a confused frown on his face. Baekhyun rarely withholds information, instead slamming it down and then waiting for him to deal with it. Baekhyun glances at him before sayings “We actually dated for a really long time.” Joonmyun was wrong; he doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t know why this bothers him, and as soon as Baekhyun says it, he wants him to stop. “About three years actually.” _Stop._ “So we do know each other really well.”

Joonmyun hates his own curiosity, but now the topic is open, he can’t let it go. “What happened?”

Baekhyun shrugs, stretching slightly. “We just, I don’t know, stopped.” He sighs, looking back at Joonmyun and his eyes race over his face, flickering. “It wasn’t a big deal actually, and both of us just went back to being friends. I know it’s really rare but-“ He pauses, chewing his lip and looking between Joonmyun’s eyes, his own flickering rapidly. “We just work better as friends. We fell in love, and then fell out of it.”

“Are you sure?” Joonmyun asks, trying to fight down the bite in his voice. It doesn't belong there. It doesn’t matter that Baekhyun and Yixing used to date, that they are friends, that Baekhyun can laugh and joke and get along with his ex and be friends as if nothing happened, as if there was no dramatic separation. He shouldn’t be annoyed at it, the way that Yixing seems to know Baekhyun, does know Baekhyun better than Joonmyun does. That Yixing looks at Baekhyun and Baekhyun looks back and Joonmyun shouldn’t be irritated by it.

“Why?” Baekhyun asks, frowning at him as he turns, facing Joonmyun. “What does it matter if we dated?”

Baekhyun has the amazing ability to see with eyes unshielded, piercing and intelligence to often look right through people. He did initially when he met Joonmyun, reading him quickly and does so now, one of the few people that can call Joonmyun out, sometimes before Joonmyun does himself. So Joonmyun looks away, frowning and shaking himself as he looks to the slowly lumbering horse before them. “It doesn’t,” he says, not looking at Baekhyun as the other sits up a bit, watching him keenly.

“Are you sure?” Baekhyun asks, his voice slightly teasing and Joonmyun glances enough to know that Baekhyun is grinning, teeth flashing as he watches Joonmyun.

“Yes, Baekhyun,” Joonmyun sighs and he shoves him away as Baekhyun leans into him, looking fiendish. “Why would it matter to me if you and Yixing used to date.” Except how it does.

Baekhyun is watching him closely. “You don’t like him,” he says and the accuracy of the statement irritates Joonmyun. He hates how Baekhyun can read him so quickly, how Baekhyun seems to know almost instantly. “It’s okay,” Baekhyun kindly reassures him, hand gently settling over his shoulder and squeezing. “If you’re jealous of mine and Xing Xing’s relationship, you can just say so.”

“Xing Xing?” Joonmyun repeats, turning to Baekhyun in disbelief. “And I never-“

Baekhyun’s laughter is loud as he falls back, slumping into the seat, Joonmyun frowning at him as he denies the fact that Baekhyun obviously enjoys this. The fact that Joonmyun, to some degree, doesn’t like someone because of how close they are with Baekhyun while he-

“It’s cute,” Baekhyun says, voice choked with laughter as he looks to Joonmyun and smiles brightly. “The fact that you’re-“

“I never said I didn’t like him,” Joonmyun cuts him off, biting down on the irritation that crawls through his chest as his mind flashes back to the fond looks Yixing and Baekhyun traded. “He’s very nice and-” Baekhyun is grinning at him, eyes winking knowingly. “Oh, shut up,” Joonmyun sighs, shoving Baekhyun away as he bursts into peals of laughter again.

“You don’t have to like my friends,” Baekhyun says, settling back beside him and looking out over the city. “It’s okay, I’m not mad.”

“I never said I didn’t like him,” Joonmyun repeats, looking over the city as well and sighing. The horse before them continues at a fair pace, the carriage jostling along with them and for a moment it’s quiet. It still smells faintly, the lingering odor of horse and hay and- Joonmyun stares. “Is it-“ he cuts himself off, staring in disbelief at the horse.

Baekhyun hums in curiosity beside him before snorting into laughter all over again, face creasing in hilarity as Joonmyun stares repulsed at the horse before them. “Now you have to get rid of that damn carpet,” Baekhyun gasps out between laughs as the horse before them proceeds to poop while clopping along lazily.

It takes Joonmyun a moment before he remembers their earlier conversation. Where Baekhyun and he had joked about this happening. Where Joonmyun bet on the last thing in his apartment that holds Jongin, the last thing that Joonmyun can see and think of the love he had for so long and which escapes him now. “I-” Baekhyun’s smile falters on his face. “Sometime I will,” he finishes and looks away.

Not yet. He can’t get rid of it. Not yet. There is too much he’s already let go of. It’s been four months and he’s still not ready to let go. He still-

“Or not,” Baekhyun says, interrupting his thoughts. His smile has faded, not quite frowning but his expression has fallen. “Joonmyun, that carpet is just a daily reminder of Jongin and-“

“I know,” Joonmyun cuts him off. He doesn’t want to talk about this. “I’m aware, Baekhyun.”

“Are you?’ Baekhyun bites his mouth closed as he watches Joonmyun, the carriage jostling them. “Are you really, Joonmyun?” He looks away, frowning at his hands. “It’s been four months and you’re still-“

“Can we not talk about this?” Joonmyun asks, his tone clipped. “Not now?”

“Why not?” Baekhyun shoots back, tone equal to Joonmyun and he looks to see Baekhyun frowning at him, eyes hard. “You can get annoyed, get irritated and snap about my friends, and I don’t care, I let it go, but as soon as I bring up the fact that you-“

“That's different,” Joonmyun says, throat burning as Baekhyun’s words bite harshly. “That’s not the-“

“It is, Joonmyun,” Baekhyun snaps before sighing and turning away, eyes closing. “When are you going to actually look at the fact that you’re still holding onto something that left you so long ago, something that I don’t think even you’re sure why you’re still holding on to. When are you going to-“

“Baekhyun,” Joonmyun snaps, glaring at him. He doesn’t want to talk about this, not with Baekhyun, not with anyone.

“Joonmyun,” Baekhyun snaps, turning sharply to glare back just as intensely. “You can talk to me about all the mess that you still have over Jongin, you can let me clean out your apartment, and I listen, I do it. I don’t say anything, but this-“

“Baekhyun,” Joonmyun repeats, harsher this time. He doesn’t want to talk about this, not now. Not here, when there is a pooping horse pulling them along and the night sky is beginning to pull over the city. When Joonmyun is wrestling with why Baekhyun and Yixing’s relationship bothers him so much and why Baekhyun’s irritation over Jongin bothers him too. He doesn’t-

“Do you ever just look at yourself, listen to yourself speak?” Baekhyun asks, voice rising. “Honestly, do you? Are you even aware of how-“ he lets out a loud aggravated sigh, turning away sharply and looking over the edge of the carriage. “You’re so frustrating sometimes.”

“And you’re not?” Joonmyun snaps before thinking, Baekhyun turning to him with an affronted expression.

“ _I’m_ frustrating?” Baekhyun asks, incredulous. “Joonmyun, are you even _listening_ to yourself?”

He is. In many ways, Joonmyun knows exactly why this isn’t appropriate. He knows why this is a one sided conversation he can never win. Baekhyun is right, he’s absolutely right. Joonmyun has no real right to be annoyed at his relationship with Yixing, find him irritating or be envious of the other man when he himself is still holding onto the last fading tendrils of something that left long ago. It’s safe though, to hold onto Jongin and sit in that last bit of what he had even if everything else has changed. He’s not the same, his life is not the same, and a large part of that is sitting beside him, biting his lip and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Fine,” Baekhyun snaps, dropping his hand and opening his eyes. “Be in denial. You seem to like it there.” The words hurt more than Joonmyun wants them to. He’s in denial, yes, though sometimes he wonders now if he’s in denial about the same things he has been in for so long. Or if the denial has expanded into something he refuses to really look at. “And if you’re annoyed at Yixing, I get full reign to speak my mind about your friends from now on.”

This shocks Joonmyun slightly, seeing as Baekhyun seems to have settled in with his friends and companions, laughing and getting along well. “What are you talking about?” he asks, turning to Baekhyun who raises an eyebrow in skepticism. “I thought you all got along. I know you and Kyungsoo hang out and everyone else-“

“Are you kidding me?” Baekhyun scoffs. “Seriously, you are the least observant person ever.” He shakes his head, and somehow it’s as if their previous argument hadn’t existed, Baekhyun shifting forward and switching past it and Joonmyun isn’t used to this. Arguments last, they don’t resolve instantly, but Baekhyun shifts topics and even if it nags at Joonmyun, it doesn’t grind in silence between them.

“You make me sound like I’m clueless,” Joonmyun grumbles, giving Baekhyun a sideways disgruntled look.

“You _are_ clueless,” Baekhyun tells him with a smirk. “Have you honestly not noticed the fact that Jongdae basically has severe separation issues whenever he’s around you?” Joonmyun blinks, thrown off guard and Baekhyun laughs in disbelief. “Are you serious? He’s so possessive of you. I’m amazed you never noticed.” He pauses, eyes flickering. “Or someone else didn’t.”

“He’s not-“ ‘Possessive’ Joonmyun means to say before biting his lip and swallowing down his words. Jongdae has been his friend for a very long time and he is extremely affectionate with those he is close with, easily gravitating to them and fitting to them. Joonmyun never really thought anything of it, but- “He’s just protective.”

“Of you,” Baekhyun says with a turn of lips and it takes a while of Joonmyun looking at him, really looking at him, before it finally hits him and he grins.

“You don’t like him,” Joonmyun says, his own amused grin spreading over his face.

“I never said that,” Baekhyun says loftily, turning away from Joonmyun to look pointedly at the horse clopping along before them.

“But you don’t,” Joonmyun persists, and even if Baekhyun is acting as if he doesn’t care, Joonmyun knows now, can see it, has seen it in the way the two interact.

“He doesn’t like me either,” Baekhyun adds as if that changes the fact that Baekhyun dislikes the fact that Joonmyun’s close friend irritates him.

“Are you jealous?” He’s being annoying, persisting in this for his own amusement and Baekhyun shoves him, earning a laugh as the other refuses to look at him.

“There is a difference between being jealous and being-” Baekhyun doesn’t finish and Joonmyun’s laughs fade as he watches the other man, the twilight that has fallen casting his features into greater relief. He doesn’t finish his statement, instead sighing and letting his face relax into a smile. “Anyway,” he says. “Now you know.”

“How great of you to notice these things for me,” Joonmyun comments, somehow just seeing Baekhyun smile making his own spread gently over his face.

“I notice more than you might think,” Baekhyun says and doesn’t elaborate. Joonmyun doesn’t press further, instead letting Baekhyun launch into a long winded commentary on how horse and carriage riding is a severely underappreciated past time. Joonmyun just sits beside him and settles back, listening and commenting and poking fun at him as he goes on and on about it. “And,” Baekhyun says with a flourish just as the carriage is finally pulling to a halt, standing up and holding out a hand to Joonmyun. “It’s free.”

Joonmyun frowns as Baekhyun pulls him up, the smile on the other man’s face telling of his own enjoyment of this fact. “So you’re telling me we just rode around the downtown area in a carriage and watched a horse poop for free?” he asks, following Baekhyun as he hops down from the carriage.

“You’d rather have paid to watch a horse poop?” Baekhyun asks him, laughing and Joonmyun doesn’t even bother answering, instead joining him in laughter.

It’s strange, how Baekhyun, whom Joonmyun has known for only a short time, has managed to meld so quickly and easily into his life, sliding into his world and fixing there as if he always belonged. How Joonmyun thinks of him when idle, how he contemplated what he might say, how he might react, whether he would smile or frown or laugh at a comment. He hears a story or sees something and his thoughts wander to Baekhyun. How he talks to him more than any of his other friends, spends more time with him and catches himself smiling just as the other crosses his mind.

-

“You’re happier,” Kyungsoo tells him, smiling as Joonmyun walks into the office on time.

Joonmyun pauses, looking to his assistant as he adjusts his hold on his briefcase. “What?”

The smile on Kyungsoo’s face has become softer over the past few weeks, the lines of his face relaxing slowly and Joonmyun almost questions what has been making him ease up. But Kyungsoo is watching him and looking relieved as he says, “You look happier these days, Joonmyun. Much happier than you have been in a long time.” Something about the way he says it makes it seem like he’s talking about more than the past few months and it makes Joonmyun pause.

Thinking over, mind turning the dates and memories from the past months, even from the past year, Joonmyun may have to agree somewhat. The lightness that he’s been feeling now is different. “How so?”

“You smile more,” Kyungsoo says. “You smile and laugh and have fun and you don't close up like you used to.” He walks up and hands Joonmyun his coffee, something he usually waits to do until Joonmyun is in his office and seated at his desk. “You’ve been better, like you enjoy the world more and can see it in a better light.”

Fingers close around a warm coffee cup as Kyungsoo steps back. He is happier, if he’s legitimately honest with himself. His days open with sunlight and he wakes up feeling younger, less automatic as he’s never sure if his day will go as he imagines and plans it to or if something will suddenly jump onto his schedule. If Baekhyun will call and drag him out for dinner or an impromptu lunch, if Kyuhyun will pull him out for drinks or Jongdae a bar.

“I suppose you’re right,” Joonmyun says, smiling back to Kyungsoo and meaning it. “I am happier, I suppose. Things are a lot better. And I have been doing a lot better since-“

“Since Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo says. Joonmyun stops, whatever he’d been going to say stopping as his expression falters. Kyungsoo is giving him a knowing look, the only issue in that Joonmyun isn’t entirely sure what it’s for. Kyungsoo lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he steps back, tapping a rhythm over his desk as he moves back behind it. “What do you guys even do together anyway?”

Everything. Everything and anything. Joonmyun hasn’t spent this much time with only one person for a very long time. “A lot,” he says slowly. “Mostly just going out for dinner, getting coffee and talking. Baekhyun usually ends up coming up with something to throw in that has nothing to do with anything and ends up being fun anyway.” He chuckles a bit, thinking back to the ducks, the horse and carriage, the random park excursions, food vendors and sudden hikes through the city, going to the tops of buildings and visiting a planetarium just to stand and take in the universe. “Do you feel small yet?” Baekhyun had asked him, leaning into his side gently, warm and steady in the air-conditioned room.

Kyungsoo is watching him, smile soft. “I’m glad you found him,” he says, voice soft, almost inaudible and Joonmyun nearly misses it.

“What?” Joonmyun asks, frowning slightly as he looks at his long time friend.

Kyungsoo just shakes his head, chuckling as he finally sits at his desk and taps into his computer. “Nothing,” he replies, not looking at Joonmyun as the CEO turns and pushes into his office.

Joonmyun tries not to think much on it as he settles into work, Kyungsoo’s comments and the musings that turn over in his mind. He tries, but that doesn’t mean he succeeds. Amid the concentration and methodology of working through paperwork and reading over documents before signing them, editing here and there and reviewing, his thoughts roll about small things that make him smile. A joke cracked or a comment made turning his lips up, a small laugh ghosting past his lips as his eyes fly down numbers and words.

“Are you busy tonight?” Jongdae asks at lunch, the now usual group they’ve once again become all taking lunch once more together and laughing together. Kyuhyun and Donghae stop in their arguing with Lu Han, a recent member of their lunch group.

It’s Friday, when Joonmyun usually ends up having something fly into his schedule that he doesn’t entirely expect. And tonight appears to be no different as Joonmyun finds himself agreeing to a small gathering at his apartment. “A housewarming,” Kyuhyun says, clapping him on the back as he arrives, carrying a bottle of wine and a large box. “Since you’ve been remaking it, we might as well fully break it in.”

“With alcohol and stupidity,” Donghae adds, following Kyuhyun into the apartment as Joonmyun laughs, leading them to the living room. It’s different, so much changed in the past few months, the lay out and atmosphere shifting into comfort that Joonmyun settles into easily after a long day of work. Kyungsoo looks up from the smaller couch Lu Han had managed to completely surprise him with.

“The place looks awesome,” Jongdae says, arriving a few minutes later and walking into the room, Baekhyun following him a few steps behind and looking smug. “You really did a great job with it. It’s so much more…” Jongdae pauses, looking around with his face scrunching up in perplexedly.

“Joonmyun,” Kyuhyun suggests near the side bar, uncorking the wine he’d brought.

Jongdae nods, handing over another plant for Joonmyun, an orchid this time, and smiling at him. “Something like that.”

“I can’t take all the credit,” Joonmyun says with a laugh, accepting the plant and making to place it by the window, setting it down beside the others Jongdae has brought.

“He’s absolutely right,” Baekhyun says, accepting a glass of wine from Kyuhyun when it’s passed to him. “I fully expect to be given some credit for about…” he taps his chin for a second before grinning cockily around at them all. “Half? We’ll say half of it.”

Donghae laughs, Kyungsoo hiding his own amusement in his drink as Joonmyun and Baekhyun trade grins. “Naturally,” Jongdae says, shaking his head faintly and sinking down onto the main couch. “How can we forget Baekhyun?”

“See?” Baekhyun says, flopping down into Joonmyun’s usual chair, bringing his wine to his lips as he smirks at Jongdae. “I’m so glad you can see this.” Jongdae, surprisingly, smirks back and gestures to Baekhyun. It’s a simple gesture, but Joonmyun notices it none-the-less, along with Baekhyun’s small pause before his smirk softens. “Has everyone made a guess as to what the thing is?”

The book sitting on the table lies open, entries waiting to be continued and the intercom buzzes to include the final member. Joonmyun answers the door with a smile and welcomes Lu Han into his apartment, the other holding a bottle of whiskey and grinning. “I feel like I’m being finally included into your private social world,” Lu Han says, handing him the bottle and a heavy box. “Is this where I finally get to learn all your secrets?”

“This is where you get to join the group of people haggling him to finally take a vacation,” Kyungsoo interjects as Lu Han walks into the living room and nods at the occupants.

“I can get on board with that,” Lu Han says, turning to look about the room and grinning.

“I don’t need a vacation,” Joonmyun says, shaking his head with a smile as he carefully puts down the gift from Lu Han.

“You haven’t taken a vacation since you become the head of the company,” Kyuhyun says with a pointed look. “Kyungsoo and I have been trying to get you to take a break for years now.”

“I take breaks,” Joonmyun protests, finally taking his drink from Kyuhyun as Lu Han helps himself to his own whiskey.

“Modified business trips do not count as vacations,” Kyungsoo points out with a roll of his eyes. “You can’t lie to me, I know everything.”

“Kyungsoo, the real mastermind behind our company,” Donghae laughs from the couch, leaning over the ‘Guesses’ book and smiling.

“Damn straight,” Kyungsoo says with a rather fiendish grin and Lu Han lets out a loud bark of a laugh.

“And yet you constantly think I’m the one trying to steal the company,” Lu Han chuckles, taking a sip of his whiskey. Joonmyun looks over, taking in the other man. He settles down, half sitting, half resting against the arm of his own chair, Baekhyun shifting slightly, moving his arm to his lap to make room. It’s not that he’s been particularly close to Lu Han, his intense personality, ability to befriend without effort, to climb up the ladders of business faster than Joonmyun had, smiling and never seeming to lack of energy had been disconcerting. But seeing him now, looking around and smiling but not imposing, Joonmyun wonders if perhaps he misjudged him.

“Joonmyun isn’t the most observant sometimes,” Baekhyun says with a small laugh, hand reaching up and patting Joonmyun’s thigh from his chair, drawing Joonmyun’s attention to him. “We love him anyway.” His smile is warm, filling the room and Joonmyun can't help but relax back, returning the smile.

“I’m just in it for the paycheck,” Kyungsoo comments dryly and Kyuhyun lets out a loud laugh, Joonmyun snapping from whatever moment he had wrapped himself in and looking over to Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo is watching him, small content smile on his face as his eyes glint.

“And this is why I can’t figure out why I’m the threatening one,” Lu Han laughs, leaning against the bar with Kyuhyun and snorting into his whiskey. “Seriously.”

“You’re crafty,” Donghae points out, grinning at Lu Han and earning a scoff.

“I’m not sneaky though,” Lu Han points out as Kyungsoo continues to grin into his drink. “That one however,” he gestures to Kyungsoo who simply raises a brow as his grin widens, the darker expression making the others in the room laugh. It’s the first time in a long time since Joonmyun has been home, in his apartment with his friends, people he knows and enjoys spending time with. His home and it feels so much like that, exactly where he wants to be. Where he is comfortable and happy and somehow, even now, holds love.

The care of the people he knows, he holds close and dear in his life, the people that matter, that he loves and who love him back, reflected in every surface, in every area. Joonmyun can feel a warmth spreading through him, a smile that doesn’t seem to want to fade on his lips as he looks around, relaxed into the arm of his chair as Baekhyun taps occasionally against his knee, fingers light and a distant reminder of his presence. He is the last to leave, shrugging on his coat and smiling at Joonmyun, reminding him of their plans the next day to go out.

“I remember,” Joonmyun tells him, waving him off tiredly as he closes the door, the white flash of teeth lingering before his eyes as the lock clicks.

It’s home. Somewhere that Joonmyun loves and feels comfortable in. The pillows are all out of place; a few drink glasses left around and abandoned coasters sitting about. The dishes in the drying rack wait for him to put them away the next morning, and Joonmyun lets himself sit and drink in the feeling. This is his home, this is he and his world, something which he didn’t consider lost, but something which he has definitely found again. Everything changes with time, and the space has altered, but it’s still his home, even if it felt the opposite for a period. He barely thinks as he walks into the bedroom, over the lush blue carpet and flops into a bed of white linens and brown coverlets.

The next day, they had planned to go out, possibly try to find an open market as Baekhyun had suggested and Joonmyun smiles, thinking of the others face as he pokes at different wares and items, asking too many questions. Knowing Baekhyun, he’ll probably try to haggle down the prices and get a deal while Joonmyun just shakes his head. Baekhyun has never asked him for anything, at least monetary. He doesn’t always refuse when Joonmyun pays, but rarely does the topic come up. It’s nice, the complete absence of money and status between them. They’re just them, and it suits the two of them, even if they are as different as they come.

They were going to go out today, walk about outside and laugh, probably Joonmyun more as Baekhyun smiled and watched him. Baekhyun would make fun of him, pointing out his facial expressions as he came across things he didn’t like or entirely understand, laughing and Joonmyun is so used to it he just laughs now. But as Joonmyun wakes up Saturday morning, the skies outside are streaked with gray, water lashing at the windows and he groans, falling back into bed with a hand over his face.

So much for them spending the day outside. Dragging himself out of bed to shower quickly and throw on a pair of jeans and a light tee, grabbing his phone from the bedside table as he runs a hand through damp hair. With the weather as foul as it is, going through the effort of styling it doesn’t seem much like something he wants to do. Baekhyun picks up after two rings. “I don’t think we’re going out today.”

“Do you melt from water?” Baekhyun asks immediately. “Is this the hidden secret of Joonmyun? That you're the long lost relative of the Wicked Witch of the West?”

“Funny,” Joonmyun huffs as he wanders from the bedroom to the kitchen. “You’re hysterical, you know that Baekhyun?”

“I’m hilarious,” Baekhyun agrees and Joonmyun laughs quietly. “I’m still coming over.”

“It’s raining,” Joonmyun points out, rather unnecessarily as his eyes flit to the torrential rain outside. If Baekhyun’s home has windows, which Joonmyun is pretty sure it does, he probably is well aware that it’s raining. “Wha-“

“We’ll improvise,” Baekhyun says before yawning, the sound hazy over the line. “Do you have cookies?”

“No?”

“Lame,” Baekhyun moans, rustling sounds in the background. “You are extremely lame, Joonmyun.”

Smiling in amusement, Joonmyun grabs a bowl and spoon from the drying rack. “It’s a miracle you put up with me at all.”

“I’m a saint,” Baekhyun tells him. “I’ll be over in about an hour? Does that work?”

Joonmyun doesn’t really bother protesting. It is around the same time he was going to meet Baekhyun anyway so he simply hums before hanging up, fixing himself breakfast and cleaning up the kitchen from last night. He finally opens the box Lu Han had brought over, pulling out what appears to be an old fashioned mantle clock. Joonmyun doesn’t have a mantelpiece, nor has ever really the purpose of one, but smiles all the same. It’s old, carved wood and intricate design and he likes it even if he might not have chosen it for himself. Though where to put it-

The intercom sounds.

Baekhyun is half soaked, shaking out his umbrella and running fingers through dampened messy hair as he steps into the apartment. “We need to build an arc,” he says, shoving a bag into Joonmyun’s arms as he takes off his one size too large jacket and hangs it up, taking off his shoes and wincing.

“That bad?” Joonmyun asks, eyeing Baekhyun as he seems soaked from the knees down. “Socks off.” Baekhyun throws him a look that reads ‘you can’t be serious’ but he does it anyway, shuffling into the apartment after Joonmyun a moment later, barefoot and shaking himself. “What did you have in mind for today?”

Movies. Movies and more movies and also some food followed by, amazingly enough, more movies.

“We’re going to sit inside all day and watch movies,” Joonmyun clarifies as Baekhyun pulls out stacks of DVD’s, all with bright red stickers on them and with overly dramatic covers.

“What better way to spend an icky day than watching movies and making fun of them,” Baekhyun muses, smiling happily as he pulls out the last movies before jumping onto the couch beside Joonmyun and gesturing to the stack he’s brought over. “We got rid of all your old ones. I picked these up at the bargain bin the other day. Though it’d be fun.”

Joonmyun has never heard of most of these movies, their titles abstract, strange, unknown or downright strange and he gives Baekhyun a sideways look before picking one up. “Bargain bin?”

“You act so surprised,” Baekhyun says, nudging him in the side with a bare foot. “Pick one. I’m making us popcorn so I can throw it at you during dramatic moments.” He grins, getting up swiftly and ruffling Joonmyun’s hair, still unstyled before walking to the kitchen.

It’s been a very long time since he just sat at home and watched movies for an entire day. Typically it would be that Joonmyun would get out of the house, going somewhere or doing something, be it paperwork or busywork rather than just simply sitting on the couch for hours watching movie after movie and commenting on them with someone. Honestly, if asked, Joonmyun can’t name the last time he simple sat, nestled together with another on the couch, laughing and commenting at the film as it played out.

It’s never something he automatically thinks of, instead finding movies to be things you view in a theater, surrounded by sound and the larger screen. “Why do you even have a flat screen if you never use it?” Baekhyun grumbles putting the third movie into the DVD player before collapsing back onto the couch beside him, flashing through the previews. “Isn’t it a crime to buy and own a flat screen if you never use it?” He shoves Joonmyun in the side with an elbow, grinning as the movie opens.

“Are you going to send me to prison?” Joonmyun asks, eyes on the screen as Baekhyun continues to shift and move, apparently unable to get comfortable.

“Absolutely,” Baekhyun says with a firm nod. “Lock you up and throw away the key. Rid the world of your face whenever you see the main character might get her heart broken.”

Somehow, Baekhyun had managed to get every romantic film the movie store seemed to have, pulling the most obscure stories and plots he was able to find. From space romance to cowboys to star crossed lovers and multiple Shakespeare adaptations, the movies seem to never end in the degree of sappy stupid crap and somehow it gets to Joonmyun every time. “I hate you,” he tells Baekhyun, shoving a pillow into his face as the other laughs, sniffing as his eyes water at the scene before him. It’s sappy, stupid and scripted beyond belief but he still ends up choking up at the heart felt confession and emotion the actors attempt to display.

“Your face,” Baekhyun wheezes, batting away the cushion and heaving for breath. “Every time, Joonmyun. I swear you’re better to watch than the movie.”

“That is not a compliment,” Joonmyun grumbles, wiping at his eyes and looking determinately back at the screen to avoid the grinning man beside him. “That is not a compliment and you are a horrible person.” Baekhyun just laughs, the sound clear in the apartment as he grabs one of the pillows, nestling it in his lap and sprawled haphazardly beside Joonmyun. Even if Baekhyun laughs at him and his reactions to cinema, even if Joonmyun spends as much time hitting Baekhyun with pillows and being hit back, getting popcorn everywhere and arguing over the characters, he can’t stop himself from smiling.

The movie plays, the two in the film going through some sort of time machine and getting transported into something more dramatic and insane than before and Baekhyun’s head shifts, falling to his shoulder. His grip shifts on the pillow hugged to his chest, bare feet, rid from socks due to the rain, propped on the edge of the coffee table. Once, Joonmyun might have frowned, scolded and told him to get off, stop getting the table dirty. He would have told anyone that. But, as Baekhyun settles deeper into the couch and his side, Joonmyun can’t be bothered to care, letting himself slip closer and just enjoying the comfort of the moment.

“I can’t remember the last time I did this,” he admits without realizing it, the words slipping past his lips as his thoughts roll on easily, lazy in how at ease he is. How comfortable he always seems to be with Baekhyun.

“Really?” Baekhyun asks, voice lazy beside him. He doesn’t move staying wedged into Joonmyun’s side.

Humming, Joonmyun continues watching the screen, the characters moving along in their story but not really following it anymore. “Yeah,” he admits voice quiet as he shifts a bit, sliding further down into the couch, Baekhyun slipping further into his side. “Not in a really, really long time. I can’t even remember Jongin and I doing this.” It slips in, and he can vaguely feel Baekhyun stiffen beside him. Since the carriage ride, neither Joonmyun nor Baekhyun have brought him up. But right now, Jongin isn’t really on Joonmyun’s mind as much as- “It’s really nice. Spending time with you is really nice.” Joonmyun’s thoughts are lazy, tumbling over each other slowly.

It’s quiet; the only sound from the television as the movie plays and Baekhyun simply sits and listens, mouth keeping closed and void of comment for once. “It’s kind of strange,” Joonmyun continues, head leaning naturally to rest atop the soft hair of Baekhyun’s head, letting out a soft sigh as even this is comfortable. “That it’s you of all people. You just kind of, slipped in and became a part of everything. A part of my life that I never expected and I keep forgetting that the only reason I know you is because I accidentally walked into a piano bar. But you’re the only person I’ve met who I’ve grown this close to in such a short time. It’s like you see me unlike anyone else I know and I don’t think of anyone that I have met before like I think of you.”

The characters on the screen wander into some sort of trouble, parental disputes and disapproval and swear to love each other until they die.

“I can talk to you about things I never talk to anyone else about and you understand. It’s weird, because you do more insulting and throwing sarcasm at me than anyone I know, and that includes Kyuhyun, who has always been a master. But it’s different with you. It just makes me smile.” The thoughts that have rolled around Joonmyun’s mind for a while now, vague and in between all come together, finally connecting into a coherent process and it’s settling to voice them. Finally put them together and lay them out.

Joonmyun lets out a soft laugh, the sweet smell of Baekhyun’s conditioner wafting from his hair as he presses his cheek to it. “I’ve never met anyone like you before. Ever.”

The silence that stretches after Joonmyun finally finishes is simple, unbroken by either of them as Baekhyun stays lain into Joonmyun’s side, Joonmyun’s head resting against his as the movie plays. Joonmyun has lost the plot, his mind wandering as he goes over his own thoughts, comfortable and at ease and just happy. He’s happy to be here, happy to be with Baekhyun, happy to know him and to have his life as it is. Now, in this moment, Joonmyun wouldn’t change anything about his life.

“You’re happy?” Baekhyun quietly asks, his voice soft against his side. He doesn’t move, remaining nestled with Joonmyun on the couch his toes curling slightly on the coffee table’s edge.

“Very.” Joonmyun sighs, smiling as his breath rustles Baekhyun’s hair and he breathes in the other. “Very happy,” he tells Baekhyun, reaching over with a hand to pat Baekhyun’s, folded over the pillow still held in his lap.

Baekhyun has managed to create a space for himself in Joonmyun’s life, his own pocket of importance that seemed to come out of nowhere but now takes up so much of Joonmyun’s thoughts that he doesn’t go a day without thinking of the other man. “Thank you,” he says, sincerity in his voice as he wraps his fingers around Baekhyun’s and holds. Holds onto the person who has turned into one of the most important people in Joonmyun’s life.

Baekhyun’s fingers shift, gently turning under his own before they’re wrapping around his, pressing together and twining easily. “For what?” he asks, head turning slightly towards him, not lifting or jostling him from his spot resting just together.

“For everything,” Joonmyun says, and means it in every sense.

“Even for putting my feet on your coffee table?”

“Yep,” Joonmyun says with a laugh.

“Throwing away half of your house and filling it with color?”

“That as well.”

“For making you sit through shitty romantic comedies and dramas?”

Joonmyun laughs, squeezing gently at Baekhyun’s hand. “Especially that,” he says, looking down into the soft brown hair beside him as Baekhyun remains pressed to his side.

“You’re not so bad either,” Baekhyun says, his usually confident and sure voice hushed. “Aside from, you know, when you cry and stuff.”

“You’re the worst,” Joonmyun laughs, jostling Baekhyun on the couch and smiling as Baekhyun laughs. He stays, curled and slumped into Joonmyun’s side, head pillowed on Joonmyun’s shoulder and Joonmyun resting beside him, cheek pressed to Baekhyun’s soft brown hair as his hand rests with Baekhyun’s. It feels so easy, so natural to sit with Baekhyun, quiet together and happy.

“You like me anyway,” Baekhyun says after a long pause and Joonmyun smiles.

“Yes,” Joonmyun says, watching as the couple finally manages to fix all their problems and lead their way towards a potentially happy ending. “I do.”

Baekhyun is unlike any other person Joonmyun knows or has met in his life, his personality slightly jarring and leaving an immediate impression. He walked into Joonmyun’s life and just never left, instead slipping into all the spaces that Joonmyun had until he was just a part of it. Until trying to imagine his life now without him is impossible, something he can’t do. Where he would be without the other in his life is something he can’t think of.

He doesn’t want to try to think of a life without Baekhyun at this point.

The movie ends with a happy ending, the two lovers finding a way through all their difficulties and ending in a sappy kiss as ridiculously dramatic music plays before the scene closes. Baekhyun sits up, studying Joonmyun’s face intently, leaning close. “What?” Joonmyun asks, leaning back, slightly daunted by Baekhyun’s serious expression, his eyes flickering over his face, between his eyes, the soft fringe of his bangs, the curve of his nose and the pink of his lips. He swallows.

“You’re not crying,” Baekhyun says, tone almost bordering on disappointed.

“Am I supposed to be?” Joonmyun asks, gaze drifting between Baekhyun’s eyes and his lips, frowning as Baekhyun bites the lower and leans in closer.

“Yes?” Baekhyun is so close Joonmyun can feel the heat from his body, his hand still curled with Joonmyun’s on the couch. Baekhyun is impossibly close and he can’t push him away. “You’re face is supposed to crumple up and look terrible after the sappy romantic moments and stupid plots.” Baekhyun pulls back, finally putting distance between them as he leans back on the couch, hand slipping from his, frowning at Joonmyun and somehow the air is too thin.

“Do you really enjoy watching me cry?” Joonmyun asks dryly, throwing a look at Baekhyun. He just shrugs, flopping backwards and grinning widely, face lighting up as he hugs the pillow closer to himself and throws his feet up, landing heavily in Joonmyun’s lap. “Move,” Joonmyun tells him.

“Nope,” Baekhyun chirps, grinning at him from where he’s sprawled. “I’m perfectly comfortable. All I need to make me perfectly happy are cookies.”

“I don’t have cookies.”

“Your only flaw.” Baekhyun sighs dramatically, throwing his pillow at Joonmyun who fumbles to catch it. “Well, maybe not only. I’m sure I could name a few others.”

“What’s next?” Joonmyun asks, shoving Baekhyun’s feet from his lap and shaking his head at the other’s antics, leaning over the vast array of movies scattered on his coffee table along with popcorn and the tall glasses of water Joonmyun had insisted on. “Is there anything here except romantic stuff?”

“Not really,” Baekhyun says from the couch. “Why don't you have cookies? You should have a constant supply of cookies at all times.”

Joonmyun frowns as he looks over movie titles. “I don’t eat cookies all that often.”

“You’re a terrible person,” Baekhyun grumbles at him.

“You like me anyway,” Joonmyun says absently, smiling as he looks back at Baekhyun, splayed over the couch and grinning back.

“I’d like you more if you had cookies,” Baekhyun says, jabbing a toe at him.

“The true way to Baekhyun’s heart,” Joonmyun sighs, pushing over movie titles and cases. “Cookies.”

“I would love you if you gave me cookies.” Joonmyun looks back at him over his shoulder. He earns a wag of eyebrows and two feet pressing into his side. “We should make cookies.” Joonmyun scoffs, going back to the movies. “Joonmyun,” Baekhyun almost whines. “Cookies.”

“Maybe later,” Joonmyun says, letting himself be shoved around, rocked on the couch by Baekhyun’s incessantly protesting and nagging shoves. “And would you stop that?”

“No.” Baekhyun lets out a loud yelp when Joonmyun ducks, grabbing a pillow from the floor and quickly whalloping him with in. Joonmyun is grinning widely, Baekhyun’s initial yelp dissolving into peals of laughter as he fights off the assault before grabbing his own and hitting back twice as hard.

The last time Joonmyun had a fight with pillows had been when he was in middle school. His brother had won magnificently and Joonmyun had cried. Today he doesn’t cry, but collapses back onto the couch, panting slightly as Baekhyun grins in triumph and flops his legs into Joonmyun’s lap, whooping in victory. “I let you win,” Joonmyun pants, slapping Baekhyun lightly on the thigh as Baekhyun flashes him a victory V and grins with gusto.

“Liar,” Baekhyun shoots back. “I’m way stronger than you.” He lets out another loud yelp when Joonmyun lurches forward and flips him, arms wrapping around his legs and hauling him off the couch. Joonmyun hits the coffee table. Baekhyun crumples to the floor. Both of them are laughing as the end up sprawled together, limbs tangled and half on top of each other. “You suck,” Baekhyun gasps, hitting him on the shoulder lazily. “You’re horrible and mean and I don’t know why like you so much.”

“I can’t imagine,” Joonmyun says, looking up to Baekhyun who pants slightly, grinning with a light pink tainting his cheeks. Joonmyun doesn’t think he’s ever enjoyed a rainy day this much in his life. He says nothing, reaching up and throwing a hand to grab Baekhyun’s, fingers tightly winding around the others and feeling warmth spread through him from their connected hands. Baekhyun is watching him, mouth parted as he breathes and Joonmyun can’t think of anything but of how this, right now, is perfect.

“What?” Baekhyun’s eyes widen slightly, his voice soft as he looks at Joonmyun and he realizes he spoke aloud.

“This is perfect,” he says again, more sure this time as he squeezes Baekhyun’s hand. “This, us, today. This is perfect.”

Thin lips press together as brown eyes flash, fingers squeezing back gently as a small smile plays about Baekhyun’s mouth before spreading, his eyes creasing into nothing as his teeth flash and he’s brilliant. “Cookies would make it better,” he finally says and Joonmyun laughs, light and happy as Baekhyun smiles and the spaces in Joonmyun’s life don’t fit together with geometric precision. They don’t fit perfectly and the puzzle is disorganized, but it’s better that way.

-

A sharp slap has a yelp resounding about the kitchen, the clattered of a spoon and the drop of an egg to the floor followed quickly by an annoyed growl. “You’re doing it wrong,” Baekhyun tells him, frowning at the egg now ruined on the floor. “It’s separate the eggs, not send them to their death against linoleum.”

“You do it then.” Joonmyun huffs before walking to the sink and grabbing a few paper towels to clean up the mess. “Separate the eggs, oh master baker Baekhyun.”

“Can you always call me that?” Baekhyun asks, looking over and grinning fiendishly as he holds up a new unbroken egg. “I like it, sounds important and interesting and much more exciting than- what was it Jongdae calls me?”

“Bacon,” Joonmyun says automatically and grins at the reaction it gets him.

“Horribly uncreative name,” Baekhyun grumbles, cracking the egg and separating it easily. Joonmyun frowns at how nimbly his hands work. “Don’t be jealous. I’ll just have to always be here when you make cookies.”

“When would I make cookies if not with you?” Joonmyun asks, cleaning up the egg and looking up at Baekhyun with a pointed look. It had been after a long period of time, Joonmyun finally smothering Baekhyun with pillows after the movie marathon to shut him up, that Baekhyun seemed to refuse to drop the topic. 

Once discovering that Joonmyun had never really done this, stood in his kitchen and spent a few hours attempting to make cookies in an oven he rarely used, he insisted with increasingly obnoxious comments they do it. Once Baekhyun had declared Joonmyun’s kitchen completely lacking and after a quick trip to the store, they are now attempting to make cookies. Attempting seems to be the operative term here, seeing as most of the last hour they’ve done little but argue over the things Joonmyun’s kitchen does or doesn’t have.

“You have a turkey baster and a kitchen scale but you don’t have a spatula?” Baekhyun gapes at him, holding up a red pepper shaped timer in emphasis of the mass of useless crap he’d apparently accumulated in his kitchen.

“You never know when you need to baste a turkey,” Joonmyun shrugs and Baekhyun gives him a rather astounded look.

“I think that’s the dirtiest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Baekhyun says, lowering the kitchen timer as he cocks his head at Joonmyun. Joonmyun just shrugs and goes back to looking up cookies. “Baste a turkey indeed,” he mutters under his breath. “I’ll baste your turkey if you baste mine. Basting our turkeys all day long. How would you like your turkey basted, sir? Well-” Joonmyun cuts him off, trying very hard not to laugh as he easily slides his hand over Baekhyun’s mouth and cuts off whatever new thing Baekhyun has thought up about suggestive turkey basting. Baekhyun sputters before letting out a small laugh, pulling Joonmyun’s hand from his mouth easily and scraping his fingernails over his palm.

“Chocolate chip cookies would have been easier,” Joonmyun mutters as they work side by side, pressed close and reading the recipe despite the space the kitchen provides them. “But no, we had to choose these.”

“If you can’t handle my demands, you can leave,” Baekhyun says, shrugging as he mixes the mass of chocolate goop in the bowl before them. He has chocolate smeared over his nose and Joonmyun is pretty sure he has flour somewhere on his own face and in his hair.

“This is my house.”

“Like I said,” Baekhyun says, looking over to him with a stern look. “You can leave.”

Joonmyun dips a finger into the batter and drags it over Baekhyun’s face, grinning as the other squawks and ducks away, curling away from him before hitting him on the jaw with the spoon he’d been using. “That hurt!” Joonmyun half yells as he jerks back, wiping at the mess of chocolate over his stinging jaw. “Baekhyun!”

“You started it,” Baekhyun says, chocolate mess over his cheek and looking completely unforgiving for the fact he just hit Joonmyun in the face with a wooden spoon. “Cookies,” he demands a moment later before nudging Joonmyun over and into his side, once more going about the recipe and telling Joonmyun to do things that he half ignores. Half ignores, but ends up doing anyway as Baekhyun nudges him in the side with his hip, at one point nearly toppling Joonmyun over much to Baekhyun’s amusement.

Oven set, they manage to finally get the cookies baking, Joonmyun wiping his face clean as Baekhyun idly sucks on the spoon they’d used, completely ignoring his own appearance. Baekhyun frowns. “Why do you have blue pot holders?” he asks, frowning at the objects before reaching over and plucking them from their hooks. “Blue pot holders and a blue oven mitt.” He gives Joonmyun a sincere look that has him blinking, wet towel pausing as he tries to wipe the last of the chocolate from his jaw.

“I like them,” Joonmyun says, going back to wiping his face clean before noticing the definite frown on Baekhyun’s face. “What?”

“Why?” Baekhyun holds up the two potholders in emphasis.

“Because I don't want to burn my hands?” Joonmyun answers, frowning at him in turn before grabbing the potholders. “When are the-” The timer goes off, interrupting Joonmyun who quickly pulls open the oven door and takes out the cookies, placing them on the cooling rack as Baekhyun watches him, face softening.

There is a long stretch of silence as they look at the dark masses on the baking sheet before Baekhyun takes a breath, leaning over Joonmyun’s shoulder. “Well, I’m sure you’ve made worse.” Joonmyun shoots him a withering look as Baekhyun just grins, hand rising to brush a bit at his face, thumb dragging along his jaw. “Chocolate,” he says, his eyes lingering over the warm skin as the pad of his thumb presses gently. “Honestly, what would you do without me?” Hand still lingering at his face, Baekhyun’s smile softens, his eyes rising to fix on Joonmyun’s.

Joonmyun looks at him, the chocolate smeared over his own cheek, resting the most against his cheekbone and completely ignored. Dropping the blue potholder, he reaches up, fingers automatically running over Baekhyun’s face and wiping off the drying chocolate batter as Baekhyun flinches slightly. “Die, probably,” he answers idly, tone softer than he intended and it takes Baekhyun a moment before he laughs.

“Probably,” he agrees, hand finally dropping to drift down over Joonmyun’s shoulder before finally settling familiarly at the small of Joonmyun’s back. It’s been there so many times Joonmyun doesn’t even think about it, smiling as he turns back to the baking sheet and letting his hand drop from Baekhyun’s face. He frowns at the tray, fingers rising to his mouth and absently running his tongue along the chocolate now resting against his fingers as Baekhyun slouches into him. “That is if these cookies don’t kill us first.”

“They were your idea,” Joonmyun reminds him, swatting him with one of the potholders before Baekhyun takes it from him. “You have to take some of the blame for this.”

“I thought you liked being responsible,” Baekhyun hums grabbing a spatula from the counter and prodding at a cookie, trying to dislodge it from the tray. It doesn’t move.

“I don’t always have to be though,” Joonmyun muses, watching as Baekhyun frowns and, while holding the tray down, finally manages to dislodge one of the cookies. They end up being horrible, Joonmyun and Baekhyun looking at each other after taking a bite and immediately wincing before trashing the whole batch.

“Remind me whose idea that was?” Joonmyun asks, shooting a look over at Baekhyun who is dumping the remaining batter in the trash.

“Cookies was an excellent idea,” Baekhyun says as he shakes the bowl with a scrunched up nose. “Us making them, maybe not, but cookies are always a good idea.”

Joonmyun smiles, shaking his head at the other as he turns off the oven and says, “Well, we can always try again.”

Baekhyun looks up and smiles at him from across the kitchen. “Yes,” he says. “Yes, we can.”

-

“Sheets?” Joonmyun looks up skeptically, holding up the package he’s just been given and receiving a shrug.

“Last I knew, Baekhyun ransacked your place of everything and I didn’t know if you had more than one pair that wasn’t blue.” Jongdae, somehow, manages to completely brush off the fact he’s just give Joonmyun one of the weirdest housewarming gifts he’s gotten so far. How exactly, Joonmyun can’t entirely figure though he does have to appreciate how Jongdae manages to pass it off as completely normal.

In the instance that Joonmyun were to attempt to give someone sheets for their bed that were a light cream color and obviously an expensive thread count, he wouldn’t be able to pull it off nearly as smoothly. “How thoughtful of you,” he says, smiling in thanks as he walks into his apartment, Jongdae following him easily. Truth be told, Joonmyun hasn’t really invested in a second pair of sheets yet, having just washed the current set on his bed rather than replace them with new ones. It is, interestingly enough, a good gift, if not a bit obscure.

“Help yourself to a drink,” Joonmyun calls as he goes to put the sheets away, walking into the bedroom and pulling open his closet door, looking up and frowning at where he ought to put the sheets. There is a lot more space in his closets now, though in many ways having less space was better. Joonmyun’s clothing once more has a tendency to pile itself about, him getting slightly careless as he shucks garments upon finishing work.

It's his style, his habit, and he doesn’t mind it and no one else lives with him now to be irritated by it.

“Thanks,” Jongdae calls back from the living room as Joonmyun pushes aside linens and towels, multicolored and predominantly white. Having finally managed to find a place for the sheets he sighs, running a hand through his hair as he joins Jongdae in the living room, accepting the glass of whatever Jongdae is having with a quiet thanks. “You’ve been busy lately,” Jongdae comments, leaning against the bar and observing him.

“Everyone is busy these days,” Joonmyun points out, taking a sip of what turns out to be the whiskey Lu Han had brought over the other day. Joonmyun hadn’t really known Jongdae was a whiskey drinker, letting the taste of the liquor sit on his tongue before swallowing.

“I mean aside from work,” Jongdae says with a small laugh, taking a sip of whiskey. It’s late, Jongdae having come over after a quick dinner as Jongdae caught him up on the details of the outsourcing before mentioning he had something for Joonmyun. Joonmyun hadn’t exactly been expecting that something to be bed sheets. “It’s kind of nice, actually.”

Joonmyun doesn’t look at Jongdae, instead his eyes on the bare floor before him, wood stretching over the floor rather than the previous blue Persian rug that had stretched over it before. He has no idea where the rug is now, just somewhere not here. It’s been a while since he thought of the rug, thought of his apartment as anything but it is. Joonmyun knows what Jongdae is referring to, which is why he remains silent.

There is a sigh from beside him as something nudges into his arm, jerking Joonmyun to look over at Jongdae. “The reports,” Jongdae says, giving him an amused smirk. “The ones you requested on Monday. I’m sorry they’re so late.”

“It’s fine,” Joonmyun says, shaking his head and putting down his drink, easily accepting the documents from the other and shifting through them quickly. “Did you really have to give them to me outside of work though?”

“I had to give you something aside from sheets,” Jongdae comments and earns a laugh. “Honestly, just giving you sheets is a little bit weird, I had to make it somewhat legitimate.”

“Your brilliance never ceases to amaze me,” Joonmyun says, shaking his head as he looks over the documents in his hands.

“Naturally,” Jongdae replies with a wry smile. “When did you get the clock?”

Joonmyun had nearly forgotten about the mantle clock Lu Han had gifted him, sitting still without real location on the long shelving unit, just below the painting that has yet to be identified. “Lu Han brought it the other night,” he answers, walking over to it and turning it about. He hadn’t really looked much at it earlier, instead putting it away as Baekhyun had managed to occupy most of his weekend before the week set in and his time was spent at work instead.

It’s a nice clock and crafted well, the wood smooth around curves. “I’ve never had a wound clock before,” Joonmyun muses, turning around the clock to examine the back, trying to figure out how to set it properly.

“Trust Lu Han to give you something that requires far too much effort to actually enjoy,” Jongdae sighs as he leans in to look at the clock as well and frowns. “Did it come with a key?”

Stuck to the bottom of the clock is a key, taped securely and as much as Joonmyun and Jongdae frown, cradling the clock carefully, they can’t make headway with getting it off. “Hold on,” Joonmyun finally sighs, turning and walking to his office, flicking on the light and opening the drawer to his desk. He needs an exacto knife, something to cut the key free from the tape so they can perhaps figure out how to wind the clock.

His thoughts pause though, the key and exacto knife fading from his mind as he looks down the face of a grinning man, eyes staring at him from the picture clipped to the front of a document given to him months ago. Papers and files he still has, he hasn't let go. No one knows about it, Joonmyun barely even knows what the papers themselves say, but he still has it. In a sort of daze, he picks it up, the folder heavy in his hands as he pulls it from the drawer slowly and looks over the front, frowning.

“Joonmyun?” Snapping from his thoughts, Joonmyun shakes from his thoughts, mind dragging on the folder in his hands before he quickly locates the exacto knife, calling a quick response to Jongdae and walking from the study.

Clock ticking gently on the mantle, Jongdae having excused himself with a kind goodnight after lingering for a while, Joonmyun sits down slowly, brow furrowed at the heavy folder in his hands. It’s been six months since Jongin walked away, five months since Joonmyun first saw this man. He doesn’t know him, has never talked to him before, and only knows his name from the black ink written below the photograph.

A large part of Joonmyun knows that keeping this, the information he ended up paying for, asking a man he doesn’t know to gather information on someone he only had interest in because of their relationship with Jongin, is wrong. It should have been discarded, thrown out along with the rest of Jongin’s things when he was shoved from his misery and circular thoughts regarding Jongin. He shouldn’t have it. He should get rid of it, the information on a man he doesn’t know, possibly will never know.

It hasn’t been opened. The temptation to open it coupling with the desire to keep it unknown heavy on Joonmyun’s mind as he looks at the folder, thumb slipping along the edge. He can open it, read through and find out what kind of man Jongin chose, who he elected to turn to instead of Joonmyun finally revealing to him. Or he can get rid of it, completely drop the last piece of holding onto Jongin from his life, completely move on, let go of him and everything.

The smile in the photo seems to be waiting, asking him if he’s ready, if he can really let go. If he’s really ready to say goodbye to Jongin as easily as Jongin did him. Years together, a life that Joonmyun hadn’t entirely seen ending, a love that he had felt so strong it beat out of his chest when Jongin so much as looked at him. A love that was broken, abandoned, and which Joonmyun isn’t sure when it stopped.

When did Jongin stop loving Joonmyun? When did Joonmyun, in turn, begin to stop thinking of Jongin, remembering him and turning him over in his mind, missing him, and waiting for him to come back. It’s scary in many ways Joonmyun realizes that he arrives home now and doesn’t think of Jongin. But he’s there, lingering at the back of his mind, in the corners of the walls and the faint cracks of his memory, the carpet Joonmyun steps onto every time he enters his bedroom. Jongin is still there, and Joonmyun still-

The cover of the folder flips open just as Joonmyun’s eyes close, breathing through his nose heavily to prepare himself to read through the information that is an invasion of privacy but which will maybe tell him once and for all what went wrong. Seconds pass, Joonmyun breathing and counting down from numbers that jumble and repeat in his mind, preparing himself to lay bare the reason Jongin left. The way he can get him back, or not.

As numbers circle back around and Joonmyun hits seven for the fifth time he lets out a groan of exasperation. The folder snaps shut as his head hangs, the heavy papers smacking as they land on the coffee table, document closed and Joonmyun runs his hands through is hair in agitation. Reading through still isn’t something he’s ready to do. Six months without Jongin in his world and Joonmyun is beginning to wonder where the other man stands in his life. He hasn’t seen him, talked to him, heard about him, heard from him, or, as much as Joonmyun might think to deny it, thought about him with nearly the degree he once did.

He needs to get rid of the folder. Remove it, let go and destroy it. It’s the right thing to do, the healthy thing to do, to accept the fact that Jongin is gone. Joonmyun and his relationship has been over for close to half a year and yet here he sits with the last fragment, the last thing which may or may not be the missing piece of why they ended and Joonmyun still can’t open it.

Sitting on the table is the last thing Joonmyun has of Jongin in his life.

At close to midnight, six months after Jongin walked away from him telling him goodbye without turning back, Joonmyun still can’t let go. He can’t get rid of the last thing he has which will possibly bring him back to a man he hasn’t seen in ages.

Fingers falling from his hair, and sighing, shoulders slumped and the weight he hasn’t felt in a long time sinking back into him, Joonmyun sits up, eyes on the folder before him.

After everything, all the time and the change and the slow progressive reclamation of the space Jongin left so stark and hollow, Joonmyun can’t do it.

Standing and running his hands over his face, Joonmyun walks from the living room, shutting off the lights and feeling more tired than he has in a long time, the folder lying, waiting untouched and a stark reminder. The carpet beneath his feet is familiar as Joonmyun sits on the edge of his bed, sheets changed and altered but still the same bed. His head falls to his hands and he wants to stop just as much as he doesn’t want to let go.

It’s the first time in a long time that Joonmyun doesn’t fall asleep easily, mind clear, instead twisting over and over as he turns and lies fitfully. It isn’t right, but he can’t let go, the lingering memory of Jongin, something that still holds onto him with the questions of _why_ and _what if_ flickering to life at random moments. It’s the first time in a long time Joonmyun oversleeps the next morning, pulling himself groggily from bed and barely registering that he’s overslept. It’s a Saturday and usually this wouldn’t matter, if not for plans and Joonmyun groans, mind fogged with sleep as he steps into the shower.

Toweling his hair and frowning, trying to remember what time exactly Baekhyun had told him to meet him, whether Joonmyun was supposed to actually go meet him or if Baekhyun was going to drop by before instead. He’s remembering that they were going to meet downtown when the loud sound of his door closing echoes and he pauses, head jerking up.

“I’m early,” yells through the apartment and Joonmyun smiles, shaking his head as he goes back to getting ready. “I swear I’m not a criminal about to ransack your place.”

“You already did that,” Joonmyun calls out in reminder and doesn’t need to see or hear Baekhyun to know he’s grinning in amusement. He smiles, shaking the wet hair from his face as he gets dressed quickly. They had planned to go to some sort of garden thing today that Joonmyun had found. Baekhyun had stared at him in surprise before laughing, telling him he must be rubbing off on him if he’s planning things other than simple excursions inside the city.

Chuckling to himself as he walks from the bedroom, running a hand through his hair and trying to get the last bit of styling in place, Joonmyun can’t help but to smile. “You know, most people are late or call before they just burst into someone else’s home,” he says, pushing open the door. “Though I suppose…” Baekhyun isn’t looking at him, instead back facing him as his form is stiff, head bowed and he doesn’t turn, doesn’t move and Joonmyun’s smile falters. “Baekhyun?”

There is no answer. Baekhyun doesn’t move, just standing still and holding something as Joonmyun walks closer, smile dropped completely as he wonders what on earth has Baekhyun attention so-

“Why do you have this?” Baekhyun is looking down at his hands, face dark and shoulders stiff. His hair is fallen over his eyes and something drops inside of Joonmyun when he finally realizes what has captured Baekhyun’s attention.

“Baekhyun-“ Joonmyun starts, stepping forward and reaching for the folder that lies open in the other’s hands, information that Joonmyun doesn’t even know open to the others eyes. Eyes which suddenly flash to his and they’re hard, burning and that horrible drop in his chest compounds. “Baekhyun, I-“

“Why?” Baekhyun repeats, expression darkening to anger as he gestures slightly with the folder. “Do you have this, Joonmyun?” The answer is something that Joonmyun knows, Baekhyun probably knows as well. The answer is what is making Baekhyun so angry. The answer is what is making Joonmyun’s heart pound and system run with cold. “I am asking you a question,” he hisses, mouth pressing to a thin line.

The worst is that whatever Joonmyun says, whatever he tries, will do nothing. This is the last thing, the final tie he has to Jongin that he just can’t let go. “Baekhyun,” he begins, casting around for something, anything to pull him out. To get Baekhyun to stop looking at him like that. Like Joonmyun is the biggest disappointment in his life, like he’s the one thing that right now, in this moment, Baekhyun despises.

“Did it really mean nothing?” Baekhyun asks, snapping the folder closed and taking a step forward as Joonmyun automatically takes a step back. Baekhyun’s eyes narrow at this and his mouth presses down as his glare intensifies. “All those months, all that time, everything, _everything,_ what was it for if you still can’t-” He growls, turning his head to the side, teeth bared and face twisted in fury. “Jongin is gone, Joonmyun.”

“I-“ Joonmyun hates this. Hates that he can’t let got but that he knows he should. Knows that this is something he should have done a long time ago but the part of him that is still lingering on the man he still loves can’t move on. “He-“

“Left you!” Baekhyun explodes. “Jongin is gone, Joonmyun. He left you, broke up with you and moved on. He loved you, then stopped, and left and he’s not going to come back. Why can't you-“

“I can’t-“ Baekhyun’s shouting is making his heart pound, the anger biting into Joonmyun and his own irritation snaps. “It’s not that simple.”

Immediately, Joonmyun knows this is the wrong thing to say. The folder smacks against the table, papers spilling from it as Baekhyun’s head snaps back to him. “It _is_ that simple, Joonmyun!” he yells. “It is. Jongin left. He hasn’t come back. He isn't coming back and you’re an idiot for holding onto this, for ignoring everything. Jongin left you; he _left_ you and took nothing with him. He’s gone, and he’s not coming back!”

“I can’t just let him go!” Joonmyun yells, his own anger, at his heartbreak, at his loss, in many ways at Jongin for leaving him, at himself for holding on, at his inability to let go completely and that even if he’s still holding onto him, he doesn’t entirely know why. All the frustration, the annoyance, and the irritation, snap. “I can’t let him go, Baekhyun. I can’t let go of the chance that-“

“Chance?” Baekhyun laughs, a horrible cold twisted and painful sound as he steps back as if burned, face cracking and he looks as furious as he does agonizingly sad. “What chance, Joonmyun? That Jongin is going to come back? That he’s magically going to come back after all and take you back and you’ll be in love just like nothing changed?” He’s laughing but it is the least happy sound Joonmyun has ever heard in his life. He never wishes that he could hear Baekhyun cry, but anything would be better than this horrible bitter laughter.

“If he comes back-“ Joonmyun can’t even finish, not even knowing himself anymore what would happen if Jongin returns. Standing there with everything finally laid bare, Joonmyun doesn’t know what would happen anymore if Jongin came back. If Jongin loves him again, or even what he would do.

“He’s not coming back!” Baekhyun screams, eyes squeezed shut before piercing into Joonmyun. He knows, Joonmyun has known for a long time. He has known Jongin wouldn’t come back for a long time, known that Jongin fell out of love with him some time ago and it still hurts somewhere. But not nearly as much as right now, when everything seems to be breaking at the seams, falling apart and shattering in his hands. The world that finally seemed whole again crumbling before him and he could have stopped it. He just didn’t.

“But-“

“You’re delusional!” Baekhyun yells, cutting him off as his hands fist at his sides. “It has been months. Months of you holding onto the notion, the idea, the phantom thought that Jongin will come back when you know, deep down somewhere under all that denial, that he never will. Joonmyun, he left you for a reason. He left you, walked away and you let him leave, just like that. You sat and stayed in your misery and you know why but you won’t accept it and then just when I finally thought you-“ Baekhyun’s face creases in pain, eyes closing as he turns from him and walks, steps firm and purposeful away and something in Joonmyun jerks so hard he’s reaching out and grabbing Baekhyun before he realizes it.

“Baekhyun.” His voice is urgent, loud and desperate against his own ears, Joonmyun’s heart pounding in his chest. He can’t let Baekhyun walk from him, not like this, not furious and hating him without trying to fix this mess. “Baekhyun, I can’t just-“

“Yes you can!” Baekhyun yells, rounding on him, throwing off his arm violently and his voice is like a slap in the face. “You can and you probably have moved on but you’re too stupid, too blind and keep holding on and I don't think you even know why.” The fire that burns in Baekhyun’s eyes is a mix of everything that seems to sear through Joonmyun, except so much more. This hurts, cuts deeper than Joonmyun can take and he reaches out again. “Do you even love him?” Words hurt more than Joonmyun can take. “Do you even know why you’re holding on or are you too wrapped up in your mindless oblivion?”

“I still-“ Joonmyun loves Jongin. He knows that, he has to, the love that he had for Jongin still there, still lingering amid the suffocating crush that seems to spread through him. His breathing is fast, looking over Baekhyun’s face and trying to find a way to stop this from spiraling out of his hands. He can fix this; he can pull this back together. “Baekhyun, I’m trying.”

“No,” Baekhyun hisses, voice low as he looks at Joonmyun and something slips behind the anger. “No, you’re not. And even if you are, you don’t even know why or what for anymore.” His face twists into a grimace and it’s always been there, the sudden raw pain Joonmyun is seeing now so blatantly. “You have no idea,” he says, voice lowering as he steps back and the space put between is cold. _No._ “He left you, Joonmyun.” Baekhyun’s voice is quiet, so much the opposite from the yells a moment ago but it is worse in so many ways. “He left you and I really am beginning to see why.”

Baekhyun isn't looking at him. He won’t look at him and he steps back every time Joonmyun moves and this is far worse than anything before. This isn’t just empty, this is crushing bone and the gaping maw of Joonmyun’s denial and stubbornness and he hates this. “Baekhyun.” The name hurts to say, almost as much as it does to see Baekhyun flinch upon hearing him.

“I’m done,” Baekhyun says, voice low to a murmur as he doesn’t look at Joonmyun, face almost hidden as he’s turned to the side, bangs shielding his eyes. His breathing is heavy and his shoulders hang. This hurts. “I’m done, Joonmyun. I can’t do this anymore.” Joonmyun’s chest cracks as his heart beats in frantic movements as Baekhyun finally turns to him and the broken but defiant look on his face scares him. “I can’t watch you tell yourself you’re in love with another man anymore. I can’t watch you hold onto something that isn’t there.”

“He’ll come back.” He regrets it instantly, wincing as soon as the words leave his mouth and wishing he could take them back. But he can’t, the words said and the damage done.

“You’re impossible!” Baekhyun yells and his voice cracks as he gestures violently, stepping forward as he lashes out. Joonmyun wants to catch his hands, grab them and stop them, stop Baekhyun. He wants to stop this from happening, go back to this morning where both of them were fine. Where Jongin was just the unspoken topic, where no one but Joonmyun knew how deep he was in. “You hired a man to _stalk_ his lover” The words stab but not as much as the truth behind them. “You need to be pushed kicking and screaming from every last shred of your own masochistic need to hold onto his rejection and the futile hope that Jongin will come back to you and love you.”

Baekhyun’s face is wet, pink with anger as he advances on Joonmyun, the pain in his voice only made louder and worse by the rasping rage that crackles about him. “If he comes back-“

“He’s _not_ coming back!” Baekhyun half screams, a fragmented sob ripping from his throat. “Joonmyun, he’s never coming back. He’s gone, he doesn’t love you, moved on and gone and this isn’t healthy. It hasn’t been healthy. For you.” He heaves a breath, finally halting and even if he’s breathing heavily, the tormented emotion shining on his face, Joonmyun can’t get the air into his lungs. “Or me,” he finishes and steps back, shaking his head sharply and bringing up a hand to his face, wiping viciously. Baekhyun has watched Joonmyun cry, watched him laugh and has grown angry, annoyed, and snapped at Joonmyun when he’s been an idiot. He’s supported and comforted and been there for Joonmyun, dozed off beside him or held him when he’d been too tired. But Baekhyun has never broken down like this.

Joonmyun hates it. Not because he can’t stand to see Baekhyun this open and raw, but because he knows he caused it. Because he knows he’s the reason Baekhyun is crying, the reason he is hurting and he can’t do anything. Joonmyun has never felt so useless in his life, or so faulted.

Joonmyun hates this. All of it. “I can’t forget him,” he says. He can’t forget Jongin. He never will, he knows that. Jongin will always be a part of him, a part of his life, a part of his love and his heart even if he’s not there right now.

“I’m not asking you to,” Baekhyun says, voice hard and rough. “I never asked you to, Joonmyun.” 

When Jongin left, he stepped away with a final goodbye, murmuring it and avoiding Joonmyun’s eyes before walking away with quiet firm steps as Joonmyun sat in shock. But Baekhyun is not Jongin. Baekhyun has never been Jongin. Baekhyun stares at him, waiting, as if giving him one last chance as Joonmyun casts around and tries to find something, anything he can say to stop this. He lost Jongin and it hurt. If Baekhyun leaves... 

Baekhyun doesn’t say goodbye. Instead, Baekhyun turns from him, steps slightly fumbling and shaking his head. Baekhyun cries and jerks away when Joonmyun reaches out, trying to grab him, trying to make him stay. “Don’t touch me,” Baekhyun yells, voice angry and ripping through Joonmyun as he throws him off. “Don’t,” he gasps, a hand over his face. “Just-“

Baekhyun is the one walking away this time. Baekhyun is the one walking away from Joonmyun and Joonmyun wants to stop him, reaches out with words and hands but nothing matters. Joonmyun knows why Baekhyun is walking away from him. Joonmyun knows exactly why Baekhyun is walking from him, in pain and angry and he’s not going to stop.

The silence after the door slams in Joonmyun’s face is deafening, the cold that seems to seep into Joonmyun horrible but nothing compares to the feeling of agony that seems to wrap up inside him and crush. He had thought, months ago, that nothing could be as bad as the horrible feeling of emptiness that Jongin had left. He was wrong. This is worse, so much worse and where he couldn’t breathe before now every breath hurts. The furniture in his apartment doesn’t sit in stark reminder of someone gone but the fact that he person isn’t there is enough.

“I can’t forget him,” Joonmyun whispers to no one before his voice cracks and he sobs, hands coming over his face as he sinks to the floor, slumped against the front hall coat closet and gasping through tears. “I can’t let him go.” Aching and filled with regret for everything he can’t explain, the grip of whom he can’t forget drives into him like a knife and Joonmyun realizes he knows the answer this time.

That’s the part that hurts most, because he’s known it for a long time now.

It’s called closure. Something that some people need, Joonmyun among them, unable to really be in a relationship that just stops, ends, and leaves him wondering why and hanging. He needs to know why, the reason, the purpose behind the separation and why it’s stopping. Communication is something he always values in his relationships, what he looks for and enjoys. Not everyone needs it, some preferring to be active together but it’s necessary for him. Kyungsoo can leave a relationship and move on, work out in his mind that it’s over without being given verbal confirmation. Jongdae accepts it and moves on, sometimes drifting back and revisiting it, mind lingering but can usually distract himself enough that he smiles through. 

The folder Joonmyun should have thrown away months ago lies on the table, papers and information spilled over the glass surface and Joonmyun frowns at it. The room is the same, still a myriad of colors and mismatched furniture and items all brought, given and purchased because they were fitting rather than appropriate. It’s still Joonmyun’s home, not missing parts. What’s missing is the person who should be there with him.

Lips pressing into a line, Joonmyun looks at the screen of his phone. Baekhyun’s is turned off, the message immediately shifting to voicemail and disconnecting. Joonmyun doesn’t know if apologizing will do anything, not when he knows what Baekhyun wants to hear from him, needs to hear from him before anything can begin to move back to what it was. Sitting on the couch and staring at the folder, unmoved from where it had been thrown a few days ago, when Joonmyun had watched another person walk from him and failed to stop them.

This time he tried. This time, he knows why Baekhyun isn’t picking up his calls, knows why Sehun tells him in clipped tones that his boss is unavailable. He knows why staring at the painting on the wall doesn’t hurt as much as the book that holds the number of guesses. He knows why his chest hurts and he can’t sleep at night. It’s worse knowing, worse being fully aware that the thing he has to do to move forward is also going to be one of the hardest things he’s done yet.

Eyes closed and taking a breath, Joonmyun waits for the dial tone to either end in disconnection or to pick up. He needs closure, needs reasons and explanations. Baekhyun was right about one thing in particular about Joonmyun sometimes needing things pointed out, explained, and detailed to him. He can have a few things he understands relatively but until he gets the final explanation, sometimes it never computes. “Hello?” sounds on the other end of the line and Joonmyun almost forgets to answer in his surprise. 

“Hi,” Joonmyun says. It feels so strange, after all this time to hear a voice he has known for so long. He’s nervous, feeling slightly awkward. It’s been so long, and somehow the distance expands into an eternity. His heart throbs in his chest, fingers clenching around the phone.

“Joonmyun?” The surprise on the other end is not hidden, instead fully audible and Joonmyun finds himself smiling a little. Of course he’d sound surprised, shocked and slightly taken aback upon hearing his voice. He stopped calling months ago.

“Yeah,” Joonmyun says, a faint smile pulling at his lips. It’s nice, a little soothing to hear his voice, even if only compiled of brief words over the line. “It’s been a while.”

-

The café is nice, familiar and warm, people coming in and out with smiles and happy faces. Joonmyun sits with a coffee between his hands and an empty chair in front of him, his eyes drifting frequently to the door, waiting. He’s nervous, dressed well but not the same, instead opting for a casual button down and jeans rather than the more formal attire he might have worn in the past. His hair is different, styled up and off his face and he wonders if he’ll be recognized. He wonders how much he’s changed. He wonders how much everything has changed.

The familiar run and go of people is somewhat relaxing, calming his nerves as he watches people chat and move about, eyes flickering to the door every time it opens. At first, Joonmyun doesn’t recognize him, his eyes drifting immediately from the figure walking into the café and looking around curiously. But then he does and his breath rushes from him. Blond hair that Joonmyun would never expect is soft about a familiar face, the eyes widening in recognition as they spot him and the smile that Joonmyun fell in love with flashes in his direction. 

He waits for his heart to jump, to swell, beat in his chest and the surge of familiar happiness to bloom through him, filling him up and expanding until all he can breathe is the other. “Thanks for coming out to meet me,” Joonmyun says, standing and unsure of whether he’s supposed to shake Jongin’s hand or hug him. He holds out his hand and Jongin smiles, looking happy, genuinely so as he takes it and shakes firmly. He looks good, impossibly good in blond hair, his skin almost glowing and holding himself tall.

Jongin looks happy, satisfied with his life and perfectly fine and Joonmyun sits feeling slightly awed by him. “Of course,” Jongin says, as if the last time they had met hadn’t ended in sharp words and harsh rejection. “I was kind of surprised to hear from you.“ He laughs, sitting down and shaking his head. It’s bright and happy and carefree, his face lighting up and genuine as he laughs and he looks amazing.

Joonmyun waits for the pounding in his chest, the rush of incredible affection and the feeling of familiarity and wholeness and love to hit him, wash over him and settle into him like it has done before. The thrill of seeing Jongin to slam into him and send his spirits soaring and his own smile to seem impossibly perfect on his face as he takes in the person that he loves and has kept for so long. He waits for the pain in this heart to melt away and be replaced with warmth and happiness and relief.

It never comes. Instead, Jongin looks at him with a smile on his face, leaning back in his chair and Joonmyun just feels happy to see him. He’s relieved, but the surge of emotion isn’t there. He still loves Jongin but it’s different this time.

“You look good,” Joonmyun says, trying to move himself from his own state of semi-shock to getting down to why he called Jongin. Jongin shakes his head, running a hand through his blond hair and ducking slightly, teeth flashing in a smile. “I’m not going to lie, I never would have thought you’d go as dramatic to dye your hair blond, but it’s nice.” Jongin looks whole. He looks happy and he looks alive and he looks complete. He looks happier than Joonmyun has seen him in a long time, longer than before they had broken up, and he wonders when Jongin stopped being this happy with him. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise,” Jongin says. He looks so different, blond hair and clean face. Even his clothing is changed. When he was with Joonmyun, he’d wear nice slacks and handsome shirts, button downs or the like. Now he’s in gray jeans, fitting nicely to his figure, and a yellow jacket that is clearly not his own, too large around the shoulders and Joonmyun remembers Jongin never bought things unless they fit him well. There isn’t a trace of blue on him.

Joonmyun never knew Jongin liked yellow. “I thought your favorite color was blue,” he says and, amazingly, Jongin laughs. Jongin isn’t hung up on Joonmyun at all, and a part of him, a part Joonmyun never expected, is glad for it. That Jongin is just happy, not suffering like he has been.

“It is,” Jongin says, and there is a softness about his voice, as if the memory isn’t something hard for him to return to, instead just something that exists and always will. It’s comforting, in a strange way as Joonmyun waits for something to shift and give. “But I like other colors too.” He smiles, expression gently shifting as he looks at Joonmyun. “Why did you want to meet me?”

Joonmyun needed to see Jongin. He needed to see him again and see the man that he can’t let go of, that he still loves in his heart. He needed to see Jongin, find out why he left him, what he can do to put it back together, what he can to do move on. He needed to, but sitting here across from Jongin, it’s different. Jongin is still Jongin, but it’s all different from the way Joonmyun has been playing this in his head.

The last time Joonmyun had seen Jongin he was still so much the same. He was still, in so many ways, Joonmyun’s. He still gravitated towards him, leaned to him, and Joonmyun knew him, could understand him and feel that Jongin missed him. Could see it in his eyes even if Jongin stepped away from him and lashed out. The hurt was there, to match Joonmyun’s and the lingering part of him that still loved Joonmyun. Last time, Joonmyun had told Jongin he loved him and Jongin had walked. Last time, Joonmyun’s heart had broken and he didn’t know what he did wrong and he wanted Jongin back.

Now, Jongin sits before Joonmyun and isn’t hurting. He’s whole and happy and bright and Joonmyun can’t read him like he once did. If he reaches across the table for Jongin’s hand, he isn’t sure if Jongin will take it or pull away. He doesn’t feel the same lingering sentiments. He should feel angry, should be annoyed Jongin hasn’t suffered like he has, has moved on and gotten over him and found a way to put himself back together into something better than before. He should be annoyed at Jongin, angry, but he isn’t. Instead, Joonmyun just sees Jongin before him and feels relieved, almost happy that he’s all right.

“Why did you leave?” It’s not really the question he wants answered. But he can’t ask Jongin why he can’t let go; he can only answer that himself.

Jongin sighs, a small smile finding it’s way over his mouth. “I think you know the answer to this,” he says and the slightly cocky attitude is something Joonmyun hasn’t seen in years.

“Enlighten me,” Joonmyun replies before he can stop himself. It’s slightly sarcastic, dry, and he feels a pang at the automatic response habit he’s slipped into so fast. It’s not something he ever had with Jongin.

Jongin’s eyes widen but then he laughs. “Okay,” he says and it’s so casual, so informal and just light, as if they’re talking about the weather rather than why they broke up. “We fell out of love,” he says simply and it’s not the answer Joonmyun wants.

“I still love you,” he says. The words are hollow and as soon as Joonmyun says them the awareness of how they don’t resonate in him hits. Joonmyun may still love Jongin, maybe will always love Jongin, but not in the way he once did. It’s so strange to think of it now, to have this flip now when he’s sitting across from Jongin in a café trying to find out why they’re not together.

Jongin is smiling. “But you’re not in love with me,” he says. And he’s completely right. “And I’m not in love with you. You stopped being in love with me a long time ago.” He doesn’t know when, seeing as love seems to never really give a distinction of when it changes or shifts between one side and another. It’s a funny thing Joonmyun has always thought he understood fairly well but, right now, exhibits the habit where it is confusing. “I don’t really know when, but it just stopped.”

“So you left me because we weren’t madly in love?” It sounds harsh and in many ways, it is. The heartbreak Joonmyun felt when Jongin left him was still very real. He may not have been as ridiculously head over heels in love with Jongin when Jongin left him, but he did love him. Does love him. ”You just decided that just because we weren’t madly in love, that-“

“That wasn’t why I broke up with you,” Jongin says, cutting him off and his voice, his posture, his entire being seems more mature, more secure, and more settled than Joonmyun has ever seen him. “I broke up with you because you were never there.” Joonmyun opens his mouth to protest, frowning, but Jongin cuts him off before he can speak. “You gave me so many things, Joonmyun. First, you promised me the moon and your love. Then you gave me anything and your love, and I was happy. But slowly it just became you giving me things, gifts and excuses and fragments and anything but yourself.” He sighs and his hands finger the cuff of his jacket delicately, as if the jacket holds the fondest memories, not of a time or a place, but a person. Someone who can bring that smile and soft look in Jongin into life with just the simplest connection of thoughts. Someone who isn’t Joonmyun.

“That’s it?” He’s not angry, but it still feels heavy on Joonmyun’s shoulders. “Because I wasn’t there all the time?”

“I never needed anything,” Jongin says, not entirely answering the question. “I never asked you for things because I never really wanted them. I just liked being with you and having us as we were. Somewhere along the line it became more of things than us and it suddenly wasn’t us. Just being with me, that’s all I wanted. All I needed.”

“You left me because I wasn’t there,” Joonmyun says, voice flat.

“That’s one reason,” Jongin says. “Neither of us was happy.”

“I was happy,” Joonmyun says immediately, frowning and looking at Jongin who sighs and shakes his head. “I was happy Jongin. I loved you and I was happy and I was trying and if you had just told me-“

“Joonmyun,” Jongin says, and it cuts him off. “I am not here to argue with you. I am not here to get back together so if that’s what you want, I’m leaving.”

It’s honest. It’s succinct and honest and somehow exactly what Joonmyun needs now when everything, anything that happened in the last few months and seemed to linger on with the faint chance of maybe wouldn’t let go. Jongin’s face is kind, he’s smiling and he’s not walking, but he won’t stay either. “I still love-“

“Do you?” Jongin cuts him off again before he sighs and shakes his head. “Joonmyun, I think it’s been a long time since you can honestly, sincerely, say you love me.”

There is no surge, no rush and no welling of the familiar emotional burst in him that there was once. Seeing Jongin, hearing his voice, talking with him and being with him and just having him near isn’t what it once was. Joonmyun doesn’t have the familiar all encompassing feeling of being in love that he once had. Instead, he just sees Jongin before him and feels at ease, happy to see him and happy that he’s here. But he isn’t in love with him. Not anymore, and when he finally pushes past everything in his mind, Jongin is right; he hasn’t been for a longer time than he ever really wanted to realize.

It has been a long time since he was in love with Jongin. A part of him will always love Jongin, just as a part of anyone loves everyone they have ever been in love with. He will never forget Jongin, can never forget Jongin, but he’s been out of love with Jongin for so long and just ghosting on the edges that he almost forgot what being in love is. But he doesn’t love Jongin like he thought, which is why he can sit across from Jongin in his too big yellow jacket, watch him smile for reasons completely unrelated to Joonmyun and which he doesn’t need to know.

Jongin is smiling at him, features soft and gentle and patient as he watches Joonmyun finally piece together parts of himself that he’d taken so much time and effort losing under all the mess that he hadn’t wanted to sort through. Joonmyun isn’t in love with Jongin, he stopped so long ago but had just been so used to him. Jongin was safe, Jongin was stable and constant and loving him made sense. It was something Joonmyun wasn’t afraid of doing.

But they’re not in love and Jongin, sitting before him, looking younger than Joonmyun can ever remember, fresh and almost glowing and beautiful, radiates with the sense of someone who has found love. Has found it and held onto it and is being held back. “Have you found someone then?” Joonmyun doesn’t finish the question, asking if Jongin has found someone who could love him in the ways Joonmyun couldn’t.

The smile that quickly hides itself is all the answer Joonmyun needs as Jongin looks down at the table. “I have,” he says, his voice soft but the affection speaks in volumes. Despite the fact that Joonmyun knew in a way, has a folder explaining it to him that he still cannot open, he’s oddly happy. Happy because Jongin is happy and, in many ways, happiness is all he wanted for Jongin.

Seeing him fulfilled and pleased with life and whole. Before him now, Jongin is happy, radiantly so, and if that means he’s with someone other than Joonmyun, he supposes that’s okay. He doesn’t ask further, asking who or what they have that Joonmyun doesn’t have, how they make Jongin so impossibly happy and he doesn’t compare himself. In many ways, seeing Jongin again, feeling what isn’t there, seems to do nothing but emphasize parts that are there.

Joonmyun may not be in love with Jongin anymore, can finally see him, talk with him and the fact that Jongin isn’t coming back to him doesn’t shatter him. He can go home tonight and remember Jongin’s face and know that the other man is happy, that he remembers him just as Joonmyun remembers but they don’t have to be together.

“I’m glad,” Joonmyun tells Jongin. Joonmyun means it when he tells Jongin he’s glad, glad that Jongin is healthy, he is well, and he is happy. He’s glad that Jongin has moved on and found love, even if it isn’t with him. It feels impossibly strange after so many months of digging himself into the world of not letting go to do so without effort.

“Thank you,” Jongin says, sincerity in his voice. “I’m glad to hear you’ve been okay,” he admits. “I’m glad you’re spending time with friends and that work is going well. You seem like you’re doing well, maybe better than before.” His eyes are warm as he looks at Joonmyun and Joonmyun feels nothing but calm. “I hope you can also find what I have.” Joonmyun’s heart skips, but this time, he’s entirely aware it’s for reasons other than the man before him who is smiling as if he knows. “Or that you already have.”

Joonmyun needs closure, needs something to tie off easily. It’s like a business deal, signing a contract after getting word from both parties. The final step where Joonmyun can watch Jongin walk away from him, walk out of his life and not want to pull him back and keep him. Joonmyun knows that he doesn’t love him like he did, that his and Jongin’s time is over and it’s why he can feel nothing but happiness for the other man who used to be such a big part of his life. One day, he’d like to think they can meet again, as friends or just be friendly, Jongin with the person who makes him so happy and Joonmyun with someone of his own.

Six months later, and Joonmyun watches this time as Jongin walks from him, blond shock of hair standing out in the café as much as the yellow jacket about his shoulders. He doesn't stop him, his eyes just lingering as the other man steps farther and farther from him, the door swinging open, bell jingling, before he’s gone. Joonmyun can watch him go this time.

Sitting in the café alone, Jongin gone and the half drunk cup of coffee before him, Joonmyun thinks. He will never forget Jongin, a part of him will always be there, always exist and Joonmyun will always, with a small part of his heart, love Jongin. He will always find a part of happiness with Jongin, but he doesn’t need Jongin to be happy, the past few months are evidence enough of that. He has been happier, relearning how to live and be happy and find his world in other places, other ways, other people. He is happy now, which is why he can feel nothing but happiness for Jongin.

Joonmyun doesn’t know if he’ll ever see Jongin again, but the important fact is he doesn’t need to. Seeing him now, talking with him, somehow was enough to fulfill that need even if the time was so short. Jongin isn’t his anymore, and neither is he Jongin’s. Jongin was a large part of his life, a love of his life, but one that ended and which he, without realizing it, moved on from.

Pulling out his phone, drinking the last cold dregs of his coffee, Joonmyun sits back and takes a breath. The space is still there; the heaviness still exists though for different reasons. It’s time for Joonmyun to finally accept that he’s moved on, leave the denial he dug himself into for so long and move onto the next step, where he finally stops living in the old space and old emotions which faded and flickered in spaces he fought to keep empty. It’s time that he accepts that someone else is there; someone else is already in his life, that while Jongin was in his heart for a very long time, right now, another occupies that space. The fit isn’t perfect, but then, no one else can be Jongin.

Smiling to himself, feeling stronger than he has in a long time, Joonmyun finds the name he was looking for and puts the phone to his ear, listening to the dial tone.

“I’m out right now, do you have an interruption radar or something?”

“Take a vacation,” Joonmyun says, not bothering to let the other man on the line bitch at him for calling. “Take a break. Take some time off and go to Prague or something. Somewhere new and exciting and interesting and get away from everything for a while.”

There is silence for a moment before Kyungsoo says, “Who are you and what have you done with Joonmyun?”

Joonmyun laughs lightly, sitting back and somehow he feels lighter. Like finally letting go of Jongin has let him free from a burden, a weight and he feels stronger, more alive. “It’s still me,” he tells his friend. “I’m taking one, too. I figure it’s about high time.”

The silence he is greeted with this time is shocked. “Who will run the company?” Kyungsoo asks. If Joonmyun is gone and Kyungsoo as well, then the company is without it’s CEO and the one person who seems to know almost everything the CEO does due to prolonged exposure.

“I figure I might as well face the fact that Lu Han is far less of a threat than you,” Joonmyun concedes with a sigh. “That’s why you’re also going on vacation and not him.”

Kyungsoo laughs, the sound loud and amused and Joonmyun can’t help but smile at the reaction as he looks around the café. He used to come here a lot, with Jongin, with Jongdae, with Kyungsoo at times and, more frequently, with Baekhyun. They were often bickering over cakes and laughing when Baekhyun ruined the purpose of two forks by shoving bites of cake into his mouth. His smile lingers even after the laughter fades. “What’s changed your mind?”

“I just met with Jongin.” Joonmyun is honest. There’s no point hiding anymore. He’s spent months hiding from truths and holding facts and secrets and skirting reality and he’s done with it. This is where he begins again, starts a new chapter of his life. With the end of every event of your life, every love and every transition, there is always a beginning.

“How did that go?” Kyungsoo is hesitant, voice clear but Joonmyun can picture him, paused in the middle of what he was doing and waiting.

“Well,” Joonmyun answers, smiling as he stands, picking up his coffee cup and clearing the table. “It went really well. He’s doing well, and so am I.” There is no we, there is no us; there is only Joonmyun walking to the counter and returning his cup with a smile and leaving.

“That’s good.”

“Yes,” Joonmyun says, pushing into sunlight and squinting, smile on his face and the next step slowly forming in his mind as he walks to his car. “It is. I expect for you to have decided on where you are going on vacation by Monday.” Grinning and unlocking his car, Joonmyun hangs up, slipping into the drivers seat.

In the confined time and space that it takes for Joonmyun to go from the coffee shop to his home, there are a few things of which he has down. Jongin is gone, Jongin left him and doesn’t love him and is not coming back. Jongin has left him, completely and definitely and Joonmyun is finally, after so long, okay with this. The Jongin Joonmyun saw today, talked with and watched and felt happy for was Jongin, the real Jongin and the Jongin he broke up with and not. He isn’t the man Joonmyun held onto for months, unable to let go and he belongs with someone else, has his own life, and the figment Joonmyun has been stuck on finally fades and the shadows lift. The reality that Joonmyun can lay to rest this part of himself pulls away a layer and brings everything into sharp focus.

That while Joonmyun focused on how one thing was missing, slowly, without him being entirely aware of it, the spaces Jongin left began to fill, with his own life, putting Joonmyun back in control. They became whole in their own way and began to mend. That while the hole that was Jongin was the thing Joonmyun focused on, another slipped in and filled the spot he didn’t realize had opened in his heart. With smiles and laughter and teasing and stark reality slaps and abrupt ideas, stupid habits and biting insults, somehow the place where Joonmyun finds happiness began to belong to someone else.

Joonmyun sat as Jongin walked away from him and didn’t do anything, wallowing instead at his loss and unable to think as to why. Joonmyun didn’t go after him, didn’t fight for him and he can see now why he stayed. Joonmyun and Jongin fell in love and fell out of love. When Jongin left, Joonmyun loved him. But he wasn’t in love with him, and the small part of him that knew that kept him back, let Jongin leave, even if it hurt to do so.

But this time, Joonmyun isn’t going to sit and wait and let another walk away from him while he does nothing. A sharp determination and purpose runs along his blood as he drives home, focused and running through plans and possibilities and conversations that could go good or bad. Honestly, he doesn’t have an ideal this time, most conversations going anywhere naturally regardless. He doesn’t have a full plan, just a drive and the goal that he will, regardless of circumstance, fix this.

He let Jongin walk away from him and out of his life. He’s not going to make the same decision this time.

The folder sits where Joonmyun left it, papers pushed back inside after sitting and staring for hours at it, waiting with a phone pressed to his ear. He still hasn’t looked at it. Now he doesn’t have to. He doesn’t want to, even if there is still a curiosity about what person lies inside, he doesn’t need to see whom Jongin is with. Jongin is happy, in many ways looking happier and more alive and young and himself than Joonmyun thinks he may have looked when they were together. He loved Jongin, once letting the other have his heart. But not anymore.

It’s dramatic and cliché, Joonmyun knows it, but that doesn’t stop him from grabbing the folder and small box, striding purposefully from the apartment. In the basement level, cars passing on the streets, Joonmyun stares at the papers curling at the bottom of a trash can as fire licks over them. It's excessive in his own perception, but the potential personal information hidden in the unseen papers isn’t something he’s about to leave around. And this way, there is nothing left. The folder is gone, remaining only in ash and while he knows he may look strange standing holding a box of matches in the car park, he doesn’t care anymore.

He can hear a voice sarcastically drawling at him that he’s being excessive, that the paper shredder at work is just as effective. But the voice isn’t here, and the paper shredder he can’t use until Monday. Joonmyun isn’t going to wait this time.

It’s gone and Joonmyun sighs, breath leaving him and leaving him clear as he steps back and his eyes close. It’s gone and Joonmyun will only know of the man Jongin ended up choosing to be with after himself if he meets him. He hopes if that happens, he can smile and shake his hand, possibly thank him for giving Jongin what he couldn’t in the end. He hopes that he will have someone at his side who he can turn to after who will smile and not ask questions and it won't matter anyway that Jongin isn’t with him. Stepping into the elevator and pulling out his phone, pressing call and holding it to his ear, Joonmyun mulls over what this is.

Rebound is for someone dated almost immediately after breaking up, a short cure for the loneliness, something to push back into dating. Everyone deals with breaking up differently. Some people jump back into dating, some throw themselves into their work, some become aggressively social and some, like Joonmyun, have a hard time letting go. Putting the phone to his ear and listening to it ring again and again, Joonmyun knows this isn’t a cure for loneliness because somewhere between falling out of love and boxing himself around Jongin, he opened up again.

Perhaps it was because he was so focused on preserving the phantom of a love he once had and tried so hard not to let go of, he missed the part of him that started to remember. Somewhere between getting rid of old memories and dusty curtains and learning to laugh again, Joonmyun had begun to let someone else into his heart who slipped in unlike Jongin had. Amid the disagreements and bickering, the jokes and taunts and foolishness, Joonmyun had somehow fallen in love all over again but been too blind by himself to see it.

The call cuts after fifteen rings and goes to voicemail, a pleasant female voice telling him to leave a message or hang up and try later. “I got rid of the folder,” he says after the beep. “And you were right. About everything.” The elevator is nearly at his floor, his apartment and the last steps. “I miss you. And I’m sorry.” No one picks up. “I’m not giving up.” He hangs up this time just as the elevator dings. His apartment is the same, the mess of mismatched things somehow coming together to form a home, the coffee table strewn with papers and books, the leather bound ‘Guesses’ book lying open and waiting for the next entry. The painting on the wall still doesn’t have an answer and the carpet in Joonmyun’s bedroom is still blue.

The last blue thing he has and the last thing that is Jongin.

Closure is something done through meeting and Joonmyun has done that. Letting go is removing that which you couldn’t before and the folder is gone. This is the last step as Joonmyun falls to his knees and finds a corner, gripping and pulling.

The thing about carpets, especially large expensive beautifully custom installed blue carpets like this one, is that they are put in with the intention of being permanent. Digging with a knife and pliers and anything else he can think useful, it is a good twenty minutes of hauling, heaving and huffing before Joonmyun slumps back, panting and glaring at the portion of carpet he’s managed to rip up. Compared to the rest of his room with carpet spanning over it. The segment he has managed to rip up before him looks like some sort of tragic accident, fibers everywhere and bits of floor cement lying about like the sad remainder of the carpet’s long life.

This is going to take hours, if not the rest of the day. Breaths pausing as he frowns, Joonmyun makes a brief analysis. One week ago, Baekhyun walked out, furious and wiping at his face, Joonmyun trying to stop him and being thrown off every time before Baekhyun shoved him back and demanded he leave him alone. Joonmyun had known then that the one thing he needed to do to get Baekhyun to stop he couldn’t do. Not in that moment.

A week is a long time though, and after today, where after a week of turning thoughts over and feeling an emptiness that didn’t exist in things and space but in the person who wasn’t with him, Joonmyun stops. He is methodical, planning things out, with step-by-step instructions that are followed to achieve a goal. In this instance, however, when the person in question is the embodiment of impulsive action and being just because, maybe Joonmyun can’t plan and plot out.

Baekhyun doesn’t fit in a box; he doesn’t fit into spaces made by other people. He exists just because he can and does things in his own way for his own reasons and logic and somehow, even if it isn’t how Joonmyun operates, he wouldn’t change Baekhyun to be any other way. He makes Joonmyun a better person, lets him be himself and encourages him to be just that, teases him and taunts him for it, but doesn’t accept any less.

The carpet, half ripped up and looking horrible on the floor, can wait.

The problem with finding someone who goes everywhere, does everything and visits places on a whim is you never know where to look. Which is why Joonmyun is walking into the trinket shop, taking off his sunglasses, and leaning over the counter to look pointed at the tall boy behind it who gives him bored quizzical look as he sucks on a slushie straw.

“Where is Baekhyun?” Joonmyun asks, looking at Sehun firmly, hands flat on the counter. He’s not leaving until he has an answer and where to find Baekhyun. 

“Who’s Baekhyun?” Sehun asks around his straw, tone edging on superfluous arrogance as he angles a hip against the counter. He takes a long drink of his cherry slushie. Today, he has apparently decided to put pink highlights in his white blond hair. “I don't know a Baekhyun. You must have the wrong shop.”

“Sehun,” Joonmyun begins, tone edging as he tries not to glare at clearly self-satisfied clerk. “Your boss. Where is he?”

“I don’t have a boss,” Sehun says, shaking his head with a sort of haughty dismissal as he straightens up and gestures slightly with his slushie. “I own this place. Didn’t you know? I’ve never heard of this mysterious Baekhyun person you’re looking for. You must have here confused with another whatever shop.”

The boy slurping on a slushie at the counter looks so pleased and amused by himself Joonmyun can’t entirely tell if he wants to laugh at him or smack him. “Where is he?”

“Who?”

“You know who.”

“Voldemort?”

“Sehun.” Joonmyun’s temper is growing short and Sehun is become more and more amused.

“That’s me,” Sehun says, taking another sip of slushie. “Are you looking for me, then? Because I’m right here. Congratulations, you found me.”

“Where’s Baekhyun?”

“We don’t sell Baekhyun here.” Sehun is nearly glowing at his own ingenuity at this point. “We do, however, have post cards and stuffed animals and a large assortment of gum.”

“Tell me where he is.” It has been a week of Joonmyun calling, Joonmyun fumbling over words and sighing as much as speaking at an answering machine. It's been a week of sending messages and waiting for something, anything, in return but only being met with silence. Joonmyun isn’t going to let Sehun stop him, not with his obvious pride in himself for keeping the location of his boss hidden. “Tell me now.”

“Or what?” Sehun finally says, leaning over the counter on his elbows, jiggling the slushie in his hand and smirking as if he owns the world. He looks so impossibly pleased and glorified in his own witty strategy Joonmyun almost laughs. “What are you going to do, Joonmyun? Get angry? Stomp your foot? Threaten me? Scold me? I guarantee you, Baekhyun is much more frightening than you are.”

“Does Minseok know you sing songs to yourself when you stock inventory?” Joonmyun says, cocking his head to the side as he watches Sehun’s expression falter. He grins, looking out of the window and into the café across the street where he first sat with Baekhyun, talked with him for the first time and where he stepped into something he never knew would mean so much to him.

“I don’t sing when I stock inventory,” Sehun says, smile back in place though it looks less confident. He makes a silly scoffing sound before standing up, though his eyes flicker to the windows and Joonmyun doesn’t need to check to know Sehun is checking the windows of the café.

“Or does he know you scribble cartoons on old receipt paper and write his name on things and draft love letters to him?” Joonmyun will have to thank Baekhyun after everything is said and done. They were just stories, most of them exaggerated and probably mostly fabricated. However, right now they are invaluable. “I wonder what he would do if he found out. If he knew you sometimes save two gummy bears from all the ones you steal and make them hold hands and pretend it’s the two of you having a lovely snuggly date before you eat them.”

“I don't do that!” Sehun yelps, the panic finally breaking through as he jerks up and slams the slushie down, looking affronted but mostly nervous as he looks at Joonmyun with wide eyes. “He doesn’t know that!”

“He could know that,” Joonmyun says with a grin and Sehun’s eyes narrow in dislike.

“I knew as soon as Baekhyun brought you in I wouldn’t like you,” he says, mouth turning down as he looks at Joonmyun through eyes pressed almost to slits. “No one that Baekhyun likes that much is ever really a good person. It makes perfect sense he’d-” Sehun stops himself, cutting off before he can continue and his cheeks flush. Joonmyun doesn’t need him to continue. He has a pretty good idea where Sehun was going anyway.

“Where is he?” Joonmyun asks again and Sehun sighs, looking thoroughly put out and having been defeated from his initial leg up. “Where is Baekhyun, Sehun?”

“He doesn’t want to see you, you know,” Sehun huffs, arms folding over his chest as he looks at Joonmyun grumpily.

“Too bad,” Joonmyun says, shrugging as he doesn’t look away from the young man before him. “I want to see him, now where is he?” Sehun’s face scrunches up in annoyance. “You know, I’m sure Minseok would have liked to hear your confession from you rather than me.” He sighs dramatically before turning from the counter and Sehun lets out a small whine. Joonmyun looks back at him expectantly.

Sehun is frowning, looking defiant as he glowers at Joonmyun from over the counter. “Fine,” he snaps before sighing dramatically. “I don’t know where he is.”

This is not the answer Joonmyun wanted to hear. “What do you mean you don't know where he is?”

“I mean I don't know where he is,” Sehun says shaking his head and looking around exasperatedly. “He could be at home or at the grocery store or out wandering around or eating lunch or rolling down a hill or at the zoo for all I know. Baekhyun is never anywhere when you want to find him.” It’s annoying that Joonmyun can find the sense in his explanation so easily. Baekhyun is impulse, he is spontaneous and he is decidedly random with definition. “Why don’t you go looking for him?” Sehun suggests, once more picking up his slushie and sipping at it loudly. He’s grinning again. “It’ll be like a scavenger hunt.” He grins, bent over the counter and lazily waving his hips back and forth as he looks up at Joonmyun.

“With no clues,” Joonmyun adds, throwing him an annoyed look. Sehun looks smug and entirely too pleased with himself once more.

“I never said it would be an easy scavenger hunt,” Sehun says before taking a long loud slurp of his ice freeze drink. “Have fun!” he calls as Joonmyun exits the shop, running a hand through his hair and ideas through his mind as Sehun waves daintily from the counter, grinning in delight.

“I hope Minseok walks in on you doodling out your love story,” Joonmyun shouts back at him as the door closes and hears the sound of Sehun choking on another slurp of slushie, breaking into violent coughing and he smiles as he turns down the side walk.

The problem with finding Baekhyun is that he could be anywhere. Naturally, as it’s closest, Joonmyun check’s Minseok’s café first. Minseok is there, offering a coffee ‘for the road’ but the place significantly lacks the energetic bright-eyed brunette Joonmyun would rather take to go. He’s not in the park, by the bridge, at the movie theater, in any of the cafes, the Laundromat, the pier, the riverside, the planetarium or any of the art galleries. His phone rings to voice mail every time Joonmyun tries to call him and his frustration grows more and more with every failed attempt to find him.

Discount tickets, coupons, cards, and bargain deals to establishments all over the city and Baekhyun isn’t in any of them. Free parks and free venues and cheap hidden places all over and all are empty of the one thing Joonmyun wants to find. It’s evening when he walks into one of the last places he can think of, tired but still focused.

Brown eyes widen in recognition as they flash to Joonmyun as soon as he stands behind the counter. “Long time no see,” Yixing says, offering a small smile as he shakes his soft brown bangs from his face and leans over the counter to Joonmyun. “I’m guessing you’re not here because of the pickles this time.”

“I’m trying to find Baekhyun,” Joonmyun tells him, not bothering with formalities, watching the other man keenly instead and waiting, hoping.

Yixing’s smile broadens and he laughs a little, shaking his bangs away again as he straightens up. “I know,” he says and walks behind the display case full of salads and a few desserts. “I can’t really see any other reason for you being here.”

Joonmyun doesn’t want to play games. It’s been a week of not seeing Baekhyun since he walked from him and began avoiding his calls. A week of Joonmyun feeling worse than when Jongin left him for the mix of emotions in his chest rather than the focus of them. Joonmyun knew what he did wrong, and he now wants to fix it. He wants Baekhyun back in his life, he wants Baekhyun to stay there and he doesn’t want Yixing stopping him. “Do you know where he is?”

“Not specifically,” Yixing says, focused on the desserts he’s rearranging in the display case and not looking at Joonmyun. “Baekhyun’s funny like that. He’s right where you need him when you need him and don't realize it, but as soon as you want him, as soon as you go to find him, he’s impossible to find.” He turns and smiles at Joonmyun. “Unless you know him well enough and know that the place you never think him to be, he is.”

Yixing speaks like a riddle, in twists and turns and while Joonmyun is pretty sure he’s supposed to understand, the thing Baekhyun always got right about him is that sometimes, unless explained to him, Joonmyun is hopelessly oblivious. Yixing smiles at him, laughing a little as he walks back to the counter, carrying a display tray of cookies and placing them gently on the counter. “Please,” Joonmyun hopes that it doesn’t sound like begging. There is still a part of him that doesn’t sit well with Yixing, with how he knows Baekhyun so well, how even now he seems to know Baekhyun so much better than Joonmyun does. How he will always know Baekhyun longer than Joonmyun even if he isn’t with Baekhyun anymore. “I just want to find him.”

“The funny thing about him,” Yixing says as he carefully rearranges the cookies into a cleaner display. “Is that Baekhyun is really stubborn sometimes. He doesn’t like to give up on things, or give in to them.” He glances up as he places a few more cookies together. “Though I’m sure you knew that.” He smiles. “But the best part is that when he gives in, he gives in with everything he has. And when he’s really struggling, he’s always in the one place you least expect him.”

Joonmyun stares as Yixing gently finishes with the display, eyes warm as they rest on him and he smiles as if he’s just told Joonmyun all the secrets that had been evading him. Baekhyun is stubborn, this much Joonmyun knows. Baekhyun makes impulsive decisions, doing things when he wants to because he wants to and deciding for Joonmyun when he falters too long. Baekhyun treats everything optimistically, jumping in entirely and never looking back. He’s decisive, random and unpredictable, a vibrant presence that pushes and pulls and never hides himself. But where he is least expected to be when he’s always the place you don’t think of, that part baffles Joonmyun, if only for a moment before realization dawns.

“He’s home?” Joonmyun asks, voice quiet as his vision snaps to focus and he looks at Yixing. The other man, eyes quiet as they take him in, nods slowly. “He’s never home.”

“Sometimes he is,” Yixing says, leaning against the counter. “When he has to be and when he can’t figure out where to go. And when he’s stuck.” Something flickers in his eyes and Joonmyun is almost too late to catch it. “But if you want to find him, that’s where he probably is. There or wandering the streets, where you’ll never find him.”

“But eventually he has to go home,” Joonmyun says slowly. He’s never been to Baekhyun’s home before. It seems extremely unfair that in all the time he spent with Baekhyun, he never once set foot in the other man’s home. It seems about high time he went. There is only one problem. “I don’t know where he lives.”

Yixing laughs, stepping back from the counter and grabbing a pen and paper, walking back and scribbling down something quickly before handing it over. “There,” he says, tapping the counter. “He lives there.”

“Thank you,” Joonmyun says, hand wrapping around the paper as he looks at Yixing. He still doesn’t quite know how he feels about Yixing, and really doesn't know how Yixing feels about him, but right now, he is thankful to him. “For-“

“I’m not doing this for you,” Yixing tells him, leaning against the counter. “But good luck.” Joonmyun doesn’t push it, instead nodding and walking from him before pausing, taking a few steps back as Yixing watches him curiously.

“I also think I might be taking a few of those,” Joonmyun says, pointing at the cookies as a thought passes through his mind. “Just in case.”

The shop door swings shut behind him with the small tinkle of the welcome bell as Joonmyun makes for his car, the address Yixing had given him clenched in his hand. It’s not far, fortunately, but the drive there seems to take forever. His heart seeming to accelerate the closer he gets and the nearer he is to finally finding Baekhyun.

The area isn’t nearly as nice as Joonmyun’s, no high rise buildings and nice cafes and fancy clean everything. Instead it’s humble, slightly dirty and a little run down, the buildings old and stacked together and somehow the semi-chaos of activity is perfect. It’s fitting and Joonmyun barely pauses, breaths short as he walks from his car and into the apartment complex, up stairs and he hopes, prays that Yixing gave him the right address. He passes doors closed and with numbers barely registering before he’s facing the correct one. He knocks.

For a while there is silence. Then-

Stomps, loud annoyed footsteps sound from behind the door before it swings open forcefully and a familiar voice is yelling “That pizza is fifteen minutes late and if you think I am going to-“ before it stops short. 

Baekhyun blinks at him, mouth open and hair sticking up in the back and looking a mix of surprised and confused. Right then, just where it should be, is what Joonmyun had been missing when he met with Jongin. That sudden shortness of breath, the pound of his heart and the feeling of warmth and happiness and overwhelmingly everything as he looks at Baekhyun who looks like he just woke up from a nap. It all clicks into place.

He wants to smile, to reach forward and grab the other and pull him close, drink him in and never let go. But things don’t work like that. They never have and they never will and in many ways that’s what Joonmyun loves the most. “I am insulted,” he says, shifting his weight as Baekhyun stares at him and seems to be in the middle of figuring out what to do. His face creases slightly as Joonmyun speaks. “After all of these months,” Joonmyun continues, shaking his head. “That you never, not even once, invited me to your home.”

Baekhyun’s face falls, he himself straightening up to his full height as he frowns and immediately crosses his arms over his chest. He does not look pleased. “Are you serious right now?”

“I had you over to my place countless times, let you rip it apart, hang out, and even get popcorn stuck in my couch but you never once invited me over to return the favor.” Joonmyun shakes his head, giving a soft of disappointed sigh as he steps forward, moving over the threshold and Baekhyun’s eyes follow him in skeptical disbelief.

“Really?” Baekhyun scoffs. “This is what you’re going to talk about?“

“And then,” Joonmyun continues around Baekhyun, now stepping into the apartment, completely ignoring that he hasn’t been invited in. Baekhyun doesn’t stop him, instead watching him in confusion and irritation. “After everything, after I let you come into my life, take it apart, move it around and shove into it, when I finally want to talk to you and see you again, you ignore me.” He places the cookies on the small table just inside the doorway, turning to Baekhyun and sighing at him as if disappointed.

“You expect me to answer your stupid calls and messages when you-“

“Yes, Baekhyun,” Joonmyun interrupts this time, stepping forward as Baekhyun frowns at him. “I expect you to answer my calls when I want to talk to you. I expect you to see me when I want to just as I will answer your calls when you want me and see you when you ask. I expect you to answer me when I ask you questions and for you to get annoyed when I am too oblivious for my own good and to make fun of me for saying and doing stupid stuff.” Baekhyun’s eyes flicker between his own, his mouth parted slightly as he watches Joonmyun speak. “I expect you to bother me when I don’t have time and to stay in my life rather than disappear from it.”

“Joonmyun,“ Baekhyun interrupts. “You realize you’re rambling. And it’s annoying.” He doesn’t frown though, nor does he push Joonmyun away when he moves closer. He doesn’t make him leave and he doesn’t stop him. He waits, and that’s all Joonmyun needs. “Rambling isn’t something you’re good at. Whenever you do, you just say the same things over and over and sound like an idiot.”

“See?” Joonmyun says, giving Baekhyun a pointed look. “This is what I was missing. Do you have any idea how dull it is to spend a week without you insulting me every day?” Baekhyun’s mouth twitches though his expression hardens. “You can’t imbed yourself into my life and then just leave like that. It’s extremely rude.”

Joonmyun’s heart is pounding. Somewhere between tearing down his curtains and curling up to horrible romantic comedies, Baekhyun slipped past Joonmyun’s senses and into his world. Somehow, Baekhyun managed to go from the stranger he met in a piano bar to one of the most important people in his life. Without him realizing it, Joonmyun fell in love with Baekhyun.

Baekhyun’s face shifts, the usual playful and confident edge slipping as conflict races over it. “I can’t do this,” he says though he doesn’t step back. “I’m not setting myself up and you’re still-“

“That’s really disappointing,” Joonmyun cuts him off. Baekhyun has never pushed him aside from the obvious moments when it was what Joonmyun needed. Baekhyun has never pushed them together, has never made that final step, though there were countless opportunities. Joonmyun understands why, something that he should probably get at least a little credit for. “Because I kind of want to do this and I just spent the entire day running around looking for you.” He gives him a purposeful look as Baekhyun’s tongue flashes out to wet his lips. “Do you have any idea how hard you are to find?”

“I’ve been home all day,” Baekhyun tells him, a small frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. “That’s what normal people do sometimes. Stay home for a day and do things like laundry and dishes or watch TV.”

“You are anything but a normal person, Baekhyun,” Joonmyun says, shaking his head as he moves closer. Baekhyun waits, his hands limp at his side as he watches Joonmyun. “You are the only person who can insult me and truly get away with it. You talk too much, laugh at everything even when it’s not appropriate, are sarcastic and snap and sometimes are temperamental, but you are not normal.” He smiles as Baekhyun’s eyes flash between his.

“Stop,” he says, and Joonmyun can hear how short his breath is. “You-“

“I never asked for you to come in and take over my life,” Joonmyun tells him sincerely and Baekhyun opens his mouth, features darkening in annoyance and indignation. “But thank you for doing so.”

Baekhyun stops, mouth slowly closing as he looks at Joonmyun and seems to try to find words. Baekhyun is rarely at a loss for words, usually a long stream of talking that is sometimes impossible to shut up. He frowns, blowing his bangs from his face. “If that was supposed to be a confession, it was terrible.”

“Would you rather I gave you fancy flowers and a gorgeous dinner?” Joonmyun asks. “Would you rather that I gave you diamonds and we went to a fancy place and I bought you everything before walking you under the stars. Rather that I told you I loved you amid a garden with the fairy lights my company sells while a small string quartet serenades us?”

“That sounds horrible,” Baekhyun says even if a smile plays about his lips. “I don't like sappy love confessions unless I can make fun of them.”

“I know,” Joonmyun says, and this, just as it is, is everything. Baekhyun isn’t perfect, he isn’t Jongin and he isn’t calm acceptance and an easy love. Baekhyun is snark and sarcasm and biting comments, always a push and pull that somehow never gets old and Joonmyun loves it. “That’s why I didn’t get you any of that.”

“This is a really shitty apology,” Baekhyun practically grumbles as Joonmyun steps forward, into Baekhyun’s personal space and Baekhyun doesn’t pull back, just stays, watching him and waiting. Baekhyun’s been waiting for a long time now, Joonmyun realizes. Waiting for him to let go, to move on and to realize. Baekhyun, who always seems to know things about Joonmyun before Joonmyun himself does, probably knew a long time ago. He’s just been waiting for Joonmyun to catch up. “So what did you get me then?” Baekhyun asks, voice soft and slightly chocked.

“Myself,” Joonmyun says, reaching forward and taking both of Baekhyun’s hands in his own, pushing their fingers together. Baekhyun’s hands are small and soft, warm in his own and everything seems to rise in him, mix together into the mass of chaotic glory that makes this right.

“All of you?” Baekhyun asks, the tinge of hesitancy loud despite how soft his voice is. Asking if this is legitimate, if Joonmyun has moved on, if it is still going to be Baekhyun standing and trying to fill the hole of Jongin where he doesn’t fit. Baekhyun isn’t Jongin, but he never can be and Joonmyun doesn't want him to be. Baekhyun has been waiting, waiting for when Joonmyun will let go and move on and see them for what they are rather than a projection.

Joonmyun doesn’t know when he fell in love with Baekhyun. He isn’t sure when Baekhyun fell in love with him, but somewhere along the way, it happened. It’s just taken him a while to really see it. He doesn’t know why or how but it doesn’t matter. The only thing that really matters is that he’s finally opened his eyes and it’s not too late.

“All of me,” Joonmyun says, lightly squeezing Baekhyun’s hands in his own. Baekhyun’s fingers twitch before they squeeze back and he bites his lower lip briefly, the look of hope and slight apprehension in his eyes lingering. Joonmyun smiles because he is happy, because he is choosing this, because he doesn’t need Baekhyun to be whole but Baekhyun makes him better, makes him happy and he wants to have him in his life. Baekhyun is the person he thinks of most, the person who is excitement and heartache and judgment and humor. Baekhyun is who makes his heart pound. He sighs, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to Baekhyun’s, eyes closing. “And cookies,” he adds, unable to stop the huge grin that spreads over his face.

That one line, the last thing, somehow pushes over the last barrier. Baekhyun suddenly laughs, the sound beautiful and clear as he leans back, head tipping as he laughs and laughs, teeth flashing and eyes creasing into nothing and fingers curled in Joonmyun’s. “You got me cookies?” Baekhyun asks, still laughing as he smiles.

Joonmyun missed this, missed Baekhyun and his smile and everything about him and seeing him again is like breathing air properly again. “Of course,” he says, tugging at Baekhyun’s hands, pulling him forward. “After all, I distinctly remember you saying you’d love me if I had cookies once.”

“I’d love you anyway,” Baekhyun says, eyes slipping closed as he smiles in the moment before Joonmyun leans in and presses their lips together, releasing Baekhyun’s hands only to pull him closer.

There is something to be said about kissing. In movies, it can be made dramatic, tragic, passionate, tame, erotic, and in some cases, furious. In the real world, kisses witnessed in public as chaste and simple, a press of lips together or to a cheek briefly before affectionate gazes exchanged. Kisses are meant to be out of love, out of affection. Joonmyun likes kissing, though it is never something he’s ever seen the need to make a big deal out of. Kissing Baekhyun had been something he’d been wanting to do though, mulled over in a lot of his musings about how things would go if they ended up positive. They would kiss after Baekhyun didn’t reject him and somehow slip back into how they are, with the obvious addition of actually dating and probably kissing and touching more.

Which is why Joonmyun is a bit disappointed when Baekhyun pulls away with a slightly scrunched up face and just looks at him as if he’s not entirely sure if this was the reality he wanted. “What?”

Baekhyun turns his head as if trying to decide on something before he clicks his tongue and pats Joonmyun’s sides. He doesn’t pull away though. “You know,” he says shaking his head slightly and giving a sigh. “As much as I hate to admit it, I’m going to have to agree with Jongin on something.” Joonmyun frowns in confusion as Baekhyun meets his eyes gravely. “You’re a terrible kisser.”

This is not exactly something people enjoy hearing. When Jongin had told him this, sudden and painful at the time, Joonmyun hadn’t really liked hearing it. He still doesn’t like hearing it now, even if Baekhyun’s mouth is twitching in a half smile and he isn’t pulling away. “That’s a bit insulting.”

“No, Joonmyun,” Baekhyun says, shaking his head and leaning in, resting his forehead against Joonmyun’s easily, so close that his eyes almost go out of focus. “If I said you’re a horrible kisser and no one should ever want to kiss you it’s so awful, that might be insulting.” Joonmyun still frowns. “I am just stating fact when I say you suck at kissing.”

“My only flaw,” Joonmyun says and Baekhyun laughs, letting Joonmyun pull him a bit closer. “We’ll figure something out.”

“Practice makes perfect,” Baekhyun says before leaning back in to press their mouths together again. He pulls back after a few moments shaking his head. “Nope, still bad.”

“You’re the worst motivational coach ever,” Joonmyun informs him with a derisive look.

“You still got me cookies,” Baekhyun reminds him with a grin. “That says something.”

-

It doesn’t change really, or at least not much. In many ways, it’s exactly the same, Joonmyun and Baekhyun hanging out and spending time together, Baekhyun invading Joonmyun’s schedule and the two of them slipping back into their previous interactions. It isn’t really all that surprising, when Joonmyun thinks about it, mentioning to Baekhyun at one point how everything before had been something like dating. Baekhyun had just grinned and told him his observational skills may or may not be improving.

“Seriously?” Lu Han is looking at him in a mix between astonishment and amusement. “Wait, you mean you two weren’t dating before?” He laughs as he stands by Kyungsoo’s desk, coffee cup in one hand, stack of papers in the other, and chewed pen behind his ear.

“Sadly Joonmyun is the slowest human alive,” Kyungsoo mumbles from his desk. He had nearly hit Joonmyun over the head with the desk phone when Joonmyun had told him their vacations could start in a few weeks.

Kyungsoo grumbles, “Prague” while angrily sticking post-its on various things on his desk. “Why the Hell of all places did you think Prague, Joonmyun?”

“Paris?” Joonmyun suggests, tapping the desk as Lu Han continues to laugh as he walks away, mumbling a variety of things before he drowns his words in his coffee. “What about Bruges? Or Moscow?” Initially, the whole vacation thing had seemed like an excellent idea. They have just tied up a deal with one company and are on a short break before things begin to pick up again and Joonmyun figured it would be a good time for a break as any.

“We’re going on a vacation.”

Baekhyun had stared at him, the raised eyebrows an obvious indication that they were not going to be doing anything of the sort. “You can’t just tell someone that you’re taking them on vacation, Joonmyun,” he said, shoving him over before going to get another of the cookies Joonmyun had brought. It had been a very good idea, as it turned out, to bring the cookies from Yixing’s shop. Especially since they ended up being shared between Joonmyun and Baekhyun on the couch for the next few hours as they sat and Baekhyun told him about how boring his neighbors were. Joonmyun had just smiled, Baekhyun’s legs in his lap, before pulling the other forward and into him to lie and just relax for a while.

“Why not?” Joonmyun had asked, hand absently running up and down Baekhyun’s arm.

“Normal people have lives,” Baekhyun said, hitting him none too lightly in the chest. “We can’t just take a vacation whenever we like and ask one of our extremely competent employees to take over.”

“You’re right,” Joonmyun hummed, nodding at Baekhyun. “Sehun really would blow up the shop.”

“You have no idea,” Baekhyun grumbled before shoving a cookie into Joonmyun’s mouth and grinning. “Maybe he might have to go on vacation as well,” he mused, settling back as his smile turns thoughtful. “I’m sure Minseok might enjoy some extra help.”

So much is exactly the same. It’s the same friends, the same altered lifestyle that is spontaneous and less ordered, less simplistic and despite the surge in activity, Joonmyun is rarely tired. His apartment is still the same, the mass of newfound furniture and mismatched items all seeming to fit into place. The picture on the wall earns even more guesses as more people visit, Sehun overstaying his welcome and guessing about seven different things before Baekhyun kicked him out, Yixing laughing at the younger man before bidding farewell.

“You still suck at kissing,” Baekhyun tells him, walking into the apartment after greeting Joonmyun with a kiss upon being let in.

“I’m trying,” Joonmyun sighs, following him into his apartment and rubbing a hand over his face.

“I’m well aware,” Baekhyun says with a raised brow. “I have been there for all of these tries, unless you’re expanding you efforts elsewhere.”

A smile pulls at Joonmyun’s mouth as he watches Baekhyun pull out a variety of items from the bag slung over his shoulder. “I haven’t been,” he assures him, walking into the living room and coming up behind the other as he pulls out what appears to be movies and snacks. “What are we doing today?” he asks, wrapping his arms around Baekhyun’s waist and settling his chin on his shoulder, pulling the other man to him easily.

“Fixing you,” Baekhyun says, leaning back into him and flipping over the movies in his hands with a contemplative frown.

“I wasn’t aware I was broken,” Joonmyun says, as Baekhyun continues to pay more attention to the movies in his hands than himself.

“You’re not,” Baekhyun hums as Joonmyun takes one of the movies from Baekhyun’s hands and looks at it himself. “But you need to be fixed anyway.”

‘Fixing Joonmyun’ translates to the two of them sitting through what Baekhyun refers to as the best romance films of all time with the best kiss scenes which Joonmyun is to study and thus improve himself. This ends up being hours of them curled on the couch, Baekhyun pausing and making Joonmyun rewatch in detail exactly how kissing is supposed to work.

“This is taking forever,” Joonmyun sighs, tired and flopping back onto the couch as Baekhyun has just spent ten minutes lecturing him and going as far as to walk to the television and gesture at it.

“I am making an investment,” Baekhyun tells him, walking back to the couch and dropping beside Joonmyun with a huff. “I am pretty sure this will benefit me greatly in the future.”

“Only you?” Joonmyun asks, eyebrows arched as he looks to Baekhyun’s reclined form beside him.

Baekhyun shoots him a surprised look. “Are you planning on making out with vast numbers of people in the near future?” he asks, angling himself more towards Joonmyun. “Because then we might have some difficulties. I’m pretty bad at sharing.” Joonmyun just laughs, reaching forward and closing the distance between them, mind spinning over the scenes that had been flashing on a screen for most of the late morning. His eyes close as he leans in and presses his lips to Baekhyun’s, moving slowly and purposefully trying to imitate what’d he’d been instructed to do. Mouth opening and hesitantly pushing deeper, Baekhyun matching him as he leans in and drifts a hand to his side in encouragement. He pulls away after a moment, meeting Baekhyun’s eyes.

“Okay?” Joonmyun asks, voice quiet against Baekhyun’s lips, waiting for judgment.

“No.” Baekhyun is as blunt as ever as he looks back and smiles despite the negative answer. “Try again.”

Joonmyun does, kissing carefully, trying to remember what it was exactly that he’s supposed to be imitating as Baekhyun’s lips press against his. It’s extremely distracting and he pulls away, looking for assessment. “Better?”

“I don’t know,” Baekhyun says, scrunching up his nose as his hand reaches up and gently settles at the back of his neck, fingers curling into the short hair there. “You should probably try again.” It has been a long time since Joonmyun really was with someone, just kissing for extended periods of time. Not since Jongin and even then most of their kisses had just ended up being brief and in between. Now that Joonmyun has been told by two people that he’s apparently not skilled in this area, it’s something that seems to be a barrier he can’t pass.

Baekhyun pulls back this time, both of them slightly breathless as he looks at Joonmyun and frowns slightly. “Better?” Joonmyun asks, hopeful.

“No,” Baekhyun tells him, just as blunt and Joonmyun wants to groan and shove him away in irritation. But this is important to Baekhyun, something he wants to do, and it is also something Joonmyun wants to do as well, which is why he sighs.

“What am I doing wrong?” Joonmyun asks, hand shifting at Baekhyun’s side.

Baekhyun takes a moment, teeth dragging at his lower lip as he frowns. “I can show you,” he says and the next moment is leaning forward, hand cupping the back of Joonmyun’s head as he leans in and kisses him. At first, Joonmyun tries to imitate, to learn in practice, but Baekhyun pulls back and tells him sharply “Just let me kiss you” before doing just that. Joonmyun tries to concentrate, to follow Baekhyun’s movements, the press of his mouth against his. He’s supposed to be learning, Baekhyun teaching him as he pulls him closer, mouth moving and opening in the slow languid kiss as his fingers twine in Joonmyun’s hair.

“There,” Baekhyun says, pulling back and slightly breathless, cheeks flushed pink and lips red and shining. “Just do-“

Joonmyun pulls him back, kissing him and swallowing Baekhyun’s words with the run of his tongue along Baekhyun’s mouth, copying his earlier actions as he slides their mouths together. Baekhyun lets out a soft sound, shifting closer as Joonmyun’s hands slide up his waist, tongue brushing against his, alternating between exploring, gently teasing and just the easy press of lips. Finally pulling back, he looks at Baekhyun again, short of breath himself and feeling warm, body thrumming and Baekhyun seems about the same. “How was that?” he asks, voice lowered as Baekhyun looks at him with half lidded eyes.

Baekhyun swallows, cheeks flushed as he looks at Joonmyun, fingers twitching at his neck. “Yeah,” he says, voice scratched. “Just- keep studying or something.”

Joonmyun just laughs before leaning in and kissing him again, careful and remembering what he had done previously as Baekhyun finally responds, kissing back and while Joonmyun may have kissed many other people, been with others, something about this is just different. It’s more balanced, more of just him and Baekhyun and while he’s been kissed before, and kissed, it’s never been quite like this. He pulls back, panting slightly, smiling at Baekhyun. “I hope you don’t mind,” he says, looking at the other. “I don’t really know who else I can really ask to help me improve.” Baekhyun blinks at him before letting out a soft exhaling laugh. “Though I could always ask Jongdae.”

It’s low, but Joonmyun doesn’t entirely care, especially when Baekhyun pulls him forward harshly, pressing himself close as he growls against his mouth “not a chance” and kisses him hard. It’s nice, just sitting together for the day, movies playing of stupid romance and ignoring most of them. Joonmyun is content to just lie wrapped up with Baekhyun as they continue Joonmyun’s ‘lesson.’

That is until Baekhyun ends up slipping a new movie into the player and collapsing on top of Joonmyun with a laugh before the movie begins. “What are we watching this time?” Joonmyun asks, gathering the other in his arms as he watches the opening credits. “Something that is happy or is this another one of your attempts to get my crying before the end?”

Baekhyun just grins at him, leaning up to give him a swift kiss before pulling back. “You’ll see,” he says with a mysterious wink before settling down into him and wrapping his arms around Joonmyun. He doesn't say anything more and Joonmyun quiets, fingers twining with Baekhyun’s. The movie begins calmly enough, a group of friends all chatting and laughing together as they plan some sort of vacation together. Then they get to their destination and suddenly Joonmyun is lurching off the couch as Baekhyun lets out a loud laugh and shoving his boyfriend harshly.

“No!” he shouts, leaning back into the couch, hands over his face as he watches the scene unfold and just get worse. Baekhyun is on his back at the other end of the couch, half curled up and laughing himself silly, the sound almost drowning out some of the terrified voices and screams coming from the television. “You are horrible,” Joonmyun whimpers, pulling his knees to his chest as he winces, watching one of the girls get dragged off into the night amid screams. 

“Your face,” Baekhyun wheezes. “Joonmyun, you should have seen your face.”

“I hate horror movies!” Joonmyun says loudly, reaching over and punching Baekhyun in the within reach half-heartedly before looking back at the television and recoiling. “Oh no.” He keeps his hands over his face, looking through his fingers as the movie continues, Baekhyun finally managing to calm down enough to sit up and settle beside him, chuckling every time Joonmyun jumps or flinches.

“Do you want me to stop the movie?” Baekhyun asks, tugging Joonmyun’s hands away from his face easily and curling one of his hands into Joonmyun’s, leaning into his side. Joonmyun starts again as one of the people previously missing shows up again. Dismembered. The small sound that escapes him has Baekhyun sighing and wrapping an arm around him, reaching for the remote.

“Wait,” Joonmyun stops him, hand squeezing Baekhyun’s as the other stops, looking at him in surprise. The problem with horror movies is that Joonmyun is terrified by them, but once they start, stopping them in the middle is like only ripping a band aid off half way. Joonmyun can’t stop a movie in the middle or he’ll end up thinking about it over and over until he fixes himself into a fit of paranoia. Baekhyun stares at him for a long moment when Joonmyun explains this before snorting into laughter all over again.

“I am never kissing you again,” Joonmyun grumbles, watching with his face scrunched up as if that will stop the horror from unfolding before him.

Baekhyun laughs, nestling back into his side and pressing a swift kiss to his cheek, moving to rest his head to his shoulder. “Yes, you are,” he says, thumb rubbing gently over the back of his hand in comforting distraction from the movie on the screen. Joonmyun just hums, jerking a moment later and letting out a yelp as another thing flashes over the screen and Baekhyun snorts into laughter once more.

Joonmyun may hate horror movies, but he’ll watch them, and somehow they’re more bearable with Baekhyun there solidly against his side. They’re not as lingering in his mind when Baekhyun catches him at the end with a sweet press of lips in reward for getting through the whole thing. Joonmyun doesn’t entirely feel like protesting with Baekhyun running his tongue along his mouth and pulling Joonmyun on top of him anyway.

It’s a natural progression, Baekhyun spending time at Joonmyun’s, staying over and reminding him constantly that his rug is still half destroyed. “Did you accidentally bring home a tiger?” he had asked the first time he had seen the mess Joonmyun had abandoned in favor of hunting him down. He doesn't really care anymore, instead just grinning and shoving Baekhyun from the bedroom so they can get on with whatever nonsense they have planned for the day. Joonmyun finally chooses a new set of curtains, after a lot of argument and dispute of colors, the beige drapes keeping the room light, sunlight filtering in and creeping over the floor.

The bed isn’t too big, the space of the apartment not too large and the pictures lining the bookcases and shelves have all changed, growing in number and variety, the faces smiling and laughing and teasing. Of Joonmyun and Baekhyun, together and happy, of their friends, of new memories, framed and frozen in time. The apartment is still Joonmyun’s, but slowly begins to hold parts of Baekhyun, just as Baekhyun’s apartment begins to hold parts of Joonmyun.

It works this way. It’s not the same, the progression of the initial attraction and of falling in love. But then, Joonmyun knows that falling in love is never the same, just as no two people are the same. Falling in love with Baekhyun had been chaotic and painful in many aspects, but being in love with Baekhyun is something Joonmyun would never change, never regret, and never wants to let go of.

The phone picks up just as he’s throwing on a light jacket. “I’m surrounded by stuffed animals and price tags, what?” Baekhyun asks.

“I thought you were off today,” Joonmyun says, walking from his office and frowning slightly. Lu Han gives him a distracted wave as he passes by, looking tired but attentive as he steps into the elevator Joonmyun has just left.

“I was but ended up having to come in anyway. The young prodigal genius broke the cash register.” Baekhyun sighs and the sound of Sehun shouting a protest is heard in the background. “I’ll be free in an hour?”

“Perfect.” Joonmyun smiles. He had finally managed to persuade Baekhyun into a vacation. Just a week, but a vacation none the less, and while a large part of him is excited for the fact that he’s taking a break where no work is involved, a larger part is just happy that it’s himself and Baekhyun. It will be himself and Baekhyun, together without anything else to factor in or bother them. “I’ll pick you up.”

“We have plans?” Baekhyun asks, sounding slightly surprised over the phone as Joonmyun walks to his car. “I thought you had to work late today.”

“Business meeting was cancelled.” The door unlocks and Joonmyun steps in, swinging the door shut. “So we’re going out.”

“Aren’t you the spontaneous one,” Baekhyun remarks and Joonmyun can hear the smirk in his voice. “What are we doing? A fancy dinner? Moonlight cruise? Horse back riding along the beach followed by dramatic poetry readings in the park by street performers?”

“Dinner,” Joonmyun tells him with a laugh. “Then a movie and who knows, maybe we’ll even go out for coffee.”

“Aren’t you imaginative.”

Turning out onto the main street, Joonmyun lets out a small laugh. “Would you rather the exuberant dinner and gifts?”

“No,” comes the easy response. “Just you is fine.”

Joonmyun smiles.

\- fin - 

**Author's Note:**

> For those wondering, the animal in the painting is a groundhog. ^^


End file.
